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COHRIGKT DEPOSIT. 



IN THE HEART OF THE 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 



^^ 



IN THE HEART 



OF THE 



CANADIAN ROCKIES 



BY 

JAMES OUTRAM 



WITH MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS 



" Mountains are the beginning and end of all natural scenery." 

— Ruskin. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
I905 

All rights reserved 






0D16S rteoavei» 

OCT 80 89Ufe 
CPok Bo, w* 

COPY s. 



Copyright, 1905, 
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 

Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1905. 



NortoooO $regg 

J. 8. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



APOLOGY 

The writer owes and most sincerely offers an apology for 
the existence of this book. Its iriception was due to kindly 
pressure, only yielded to with great reluctance, and its comple- 
tion has been effected under serious difficulties. The brain 
collapse from overwork, which first impelled him to the moun- 
tain heights for mental rest and physical recuperation, has 
throughout hampered clear thought and steady composition. 
A basis of a few magazine articles has been built upon by 
scraps of work at odd half-hours, and thrown together without 
the opportunity either to weld the fragments into literary form 
or polish the resultant in a manner that would justify its 
presentation to the public. 

As there is no pretence to literary merit, so there is no 
attempt at a scientific treatment of any of the geological, 
zoological, or botanical features met with in the Canadian 
Rockies, interesting as each undoubtedly is and deserving of 
the attention of specialists. These characteristics are dealt 
with merely en passant as they strike a very ordinary mortal, 
with less than an elementary acquaintance with these sciences. 

The only claims to consideration the writer can put forward 
are those of an enthusiast : first, as a lover of Nature and her 
infinite Creator, who has had the privilege, during a long 
period of compulsory abandonment of all his wonted mental 
occupations, to spend a part of three summers in the most 
attractive region it has been his lot to visit ; and, secondly, as 
a mountaineer, to whom, as to Childe Harold, " high mountains 
are a feeling," and who can say with him, 

"Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends." 

His endeavour has been to combine some of the most strik- 
ing narratives of others with a considerable fund of new experi- 
ences, gained in the exploration of hitherto untrodden peaks 



viii APOLOGY 

and passes, and, from an intimate acquaintance with almost all 
of the loftiest mountains and most lovely scenery along the 
chain of the Divide, from Mt. Assiniboine to Mt. Columbia,- — 
the highest peak in the Dominion as yet conquered by the 
mountaineer, — to present some account of all the more notable 
"First Ascents,'' together with a description of the chief points 
of interest and beauty massed in the mountain fastnesses. 

Thanks are most heartily given to the publishers of The 
Century Magazine, Outing, Leslie's Monthly, The English Illus- 
trated Magazine, and Appalachia for permission to incorporate 
articles which have already appeared. Also to Professor C. E. 
Fay, editor, for kind permission to make extracts from numer- 
ous papers published in Appalachia, amongst which his own are 
most valuable: to Mr. W. D. Wilcox for permission to quote 
and refer to his delightful book, "The Rockies of Canada,'' 
and to Messrs. Stutfield and Collie for similar favours in con- 
nection with their work, " Climbs and Exploration in the 
Canadian Rockies." The writer would also express his in- 
debtedness to the following gentlemen for permission to use 
photographs : Messrs. A. H. Cowan (4), H. W. Du Bois, C. E. 
Fay, J. Habel, I. Langmuir, H. C. Parker, E. R. Shepard, and 
W. D. Wilcox, and the Detroit Photographic Company; to 
Mr. E. Deville, Surveyor-General of Canada, for maps pub- 
lished by the Dominion Land Survey, and to the Royal Geo- 
graphical Society and Professor J. N. Collie for the latter's 
valuable map, which has been almost exactly reproduced, with 
an extension from Mr. W. D. Wilcox's map. For any varia- 
tions from these originals the writer is solely responsible. 

Finally, the writer desires to express his special thanks to his 
friend, Mr. Harrington Putnam, for most valuable advice and 
assistance during the progress of this volume through the press ; 
and earnestly hopes that some of the readers of its pages may 
not only while away a passing hour pleasantly, but be drawn 
into a new or closer intimacy with the mountains, which may 
enrich their lives in future years. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Mountains and their History i 

II. Banff the Beautiful 27 

III. Mt. Assiniboine 38 

IV. Lake Louise . . .72 

V. The Tragedy on Mt. Lefroy 99 

VI. The Valley of the Ten Peaks 124 

VII. Field and Mt. Stephen 144 

VIII. The Yoho Valley .189 

IX. The Ottertail Group 234 

X. The Valley of the Upper Bow 269 

XI. The Sources of the North Saskatchewan . . . 294 

XII. Mt. Forbes 335 

XIII. The Mountains of the West Branch .... 362 

XIV. Mt. Bryce 404 

XV. Farther North 429 

APPENDICES 

A. The Selkirks 441 

B. Accident on the Glaciers of Mt. Gordon .... 445 

C. Hints on Outfit . . . . . . . . . 448 

D. Record of "First Ascents" 449 

Index 453 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 



Lake Louise. The First Glimpse Frontispiece 

A Baby Rocky Mountain Goat 1 1 

Mt. Sir Donald 23 

Banff. {Photo, by Detroit Photographic Co.) 33 

Cascade Mountain .......... 36 

Mt. Assiniboine from the North. {Photo, by H. W. DuBois) . . 39 

Mt. Assiniboine from the South-west. {Photo, by W. D. Wilcox) . 58 V 

Summit of Mt. Assiniboine ......... 67 

Lake Louise and Mt. Lefroy. {Photo, by A. H. Cowan) - • • 73 

Lake Louise and Mt. Victoria. {Photo, by A. H. Cowan) ... 82 

A" Glacier Table. {Photo, by C. E. Fay) 91 

Cornice on the Summit of Mt. Habel ....... 103 

Mt. Lefroy and Victoria Glacier . . . . . . . . 113 

The Mitre. {Photo, by A. H. Cowan) 124 

Mt. Temple. {Photo, by E. R. Shepard) 129 

Mts. Hungabee, Deltaform, and Biddle. {Photo, by H. C. Parker) . 134 

Field and Mt. Stephen 145 

Mts. Stephen and Cathedral 156 

The Natural Bridge 166 

Cathedral Spires . . . . 173 

The Yoho Valley . 180 

Emerald Lake 188 

Yoho Lake ............ 194 

The Takakkaw Fall. {Photo, by A. H. Cowan) 195 

The President Mountain ......... 205 

The Takakkaw Fall 216 

The Twin Falls 218 

Glacier Cascades 228 

The Balfour Ice Fall 232 

The Ottertail Group . . 235 

xi 



xii ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Mt. Goodsir. {Photo, by I. Langmuir) ...... 249 

Mt. Vaux . 265 

Bow Lake ..<>.. .••••.. 292 

Pyramid Peak . 296 

The Middle Fork of the North Saskatchewan 309 

Howse Peak 317 

The Freshfield Glacier 320 

Mt. Forbes 343 

Mt. Saskatchewan 365 

Mt. Alexandra 368 

Mt. Columbia from the North-west. {Photo, by J. Habel~) . . . 380 

View to the North-west from the Summit of Mt. Lyell .... 391 

Mt. Bryce 405 

Watchman Peak 409 

Mt. Columbia from the South-east . • . . • . .415 

The Illecillewaet Glacier 443 

MAPS 

The Neighbourhood of Laggan and Field • . • to face page jy 

The Yoho Valley Region ...... « " 155 

The Canadian Rocky Mountains .••»••• At end 



IN THE HEART OF THE 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 



IN THE HEART OF THE 
CANADIAN ROCKIES 

CHAPTER I 

THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 
" Westward the course of Empire takes its way " 

There is a wonderful fascination about mountains. 
Their massive grandeur, majesty of lofty height, splen- 
dour of striking outline — crag and pinnacle and preci- 
pice — seem to appeal both to the intellect and to the 
inmost soul of man, and to compel a mingled reverence 
and love. 

More especially is this the case where snow and 
glacier combine to add a hundred fold to all the other 
charms and glories of the peaks. Their inspiration 
almost overwhelms one as he gazes on their 

"Stainless ramps, . . . 
Ranged in white ranks against the blue — untrod, 
Infinite, wonderful — whose uplands vast 
And lifted universe of crest and crag, 
Shoulder and shelf, green slope and icy horn, 
Led climbing thought higher and higher, until 
It seemed to stand in heaven and speak with gods." 

Who can wander unmoved in the calm shelter of 
some verdant valley, a foaming torrent swirling tumultu- 
ously at his feet, or beside the placid waters of a moun- 



2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

tain lake, reflecting mirror-like the darkly sombre slopes 
of pine that lead us onward, upward to those 

" Palaces of Nature, whose vast walls 
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, 
And throned eternity in icy halls 
Of cold sublimity; where forms and falls 
The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow ! 
All that expands the spirit yet appals 
Gathers around these summits, as to show 
How earth may pierce to heaven, yet leave vain man below." 

But the fascination of the peaks permits no quiet 
acquiescence in this suggestion to remain in passive 
admiration at their base. The spell is on us — not of 
wonder only or of awe, or even love that can be satis- 
fied with distance. A closer, fuller intimacy must be 
ours ; gained by a reverent study of their character 
and form and nature, penetrating their reserve, breaking 
down barriers, till from point to point we pass to learn 
the fulness of their being, and on each soaring crest 
learn from itself and its environment new glories and 
fresh beauties in the world and its Creator. 

Such is the spirit of the mountaineer, and to gain 
this is at once his keen endeavour and his highest joy. 
No toil is too arduous for him to undergo; the very 
difficulties constitute an added charm; it is a science, 
loved and studied long and patiently, which in pur- 
suit and ultimate achievement brings invariably a full 
reward. ' 

The tiny land of Switzerland is famed throughout 
the civilized world for the splendour of its mountain 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 3 

scenery. In the tremendous effects of absolute eleva- 
tion and extent, wild desolation and rugged immensity, 
it cannot, of course, compare with the huge chain of 
the Andes or the vast summits of the Himalayas, but 
for variety and charm, as well as accessibility, it has 
well-grounded claims to the title of " The Prince of 
Playgrounds." The rich valleys, threaded by icy tor- 
rents, adorned by frequent waterfalls, clothed with dark, 
sheltering forests, or brightened by cultivated fields and 
vineyards, dotted with picturesque chalets, and eloquent 
of peaceful, healthful home-life, are invaluable comple- 
ments to the magnificent lakes, the towering cliffs, 
majestic glaciers, and stupendous, ice-clad peaks, which 
form the crowning glory of that favoured country unique 
in scenic grandeur as in history. 

But though its scenery is unchangingly beautiful and 
the familiar Alpine monarchs retain forever the affection 
of the mountaineer, yet his soul will crave — and rightly 
so — the chief joy of the climber's ambition, a "first 
ascent." He turns most naturally, therefore, to the great 
continent of America, where he expects to find plenty 
of new things and generally finds them on the largest 
scale. The United States, with its enormous area and 
limitless array of Nature's mightiest works and treasures, 
might well expect to possess some counterpart to 
Europe's pleasure-ground. Bat, hunt as we may amid 
the upland solitudes of Colorado's sea of lofty moun- 
tains, the noble peaks and canyons of the Californian 
Sierras, or the icy fastnesses of Mt. Shasta and the 
Cascade Range, the more closely they are studied, the 



4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

more intrinsically are they found to differ from Switzer- 
land. Each contains some of the splendid features that 
are all combined within the scanty limits of the little 
European Republic, but the wondrous glacial fields, the 
massing of majestic ranges, the striking individuality of 
each great peak, the forest areas, green pasture lands, 
clear lakes, and peaceful valleys, are nowhere found 
harmoniously blended on the western continent until 
the traveller visits that section of the Rocky Mountains 
which lies within the wide domain of Canada. 

Following the Continental watershed from Colorado 
northward, the ranges of Montana begin to display the 
characteristic features which culminate in the Switzer- 
land of the Western Hemisphere. The rounded or 
gabled summits here give place to broken pinnacles, 
precipices rise in frequent grandeur, enormous seas of 
ice sweep from the alpine heights into the verdant heart 
of pine- and spruce-clad valleys, gemmed with emerald 
and turquoise lakelets, and silvery waterfalls and spar- 
kling rivulets unite in producing a series of absolutely 
perfect mountain pictures. 

Two variations from the European prototype are 
certainly conspicuous. The one, that in this country of 
superlatives the ranges and peaks are multiplied tenfold. 
The area is vastly larger and the mountains are more 
closely packed together ; but, as a consequence, the indi- 
vidual peaks, with some notable exceptions, are scarcely 
so strikingly characteristic as their Helvetian relatives. 
The other obvious difference lies in the wildness of the 
Rocky Mountain region. Except where the railroad, 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 5 

with its intruding whirl of civilization, has caused the 
springing up of one or two small hamlets and an occa- 
sional section-house, even along the highway of trans- 
continental traffic there is but little sign of man. The 
graceful chalet, the climbing herd of cattle, the musical 
tinkle of whose bells chimes faintly through the distance, 
the sturdy toiling peasant, here are not. Nature alone 
holds sway, rugged and wild and beautiful. And yet 
the seeker of these temples of Nature, whether to wor- 
ship from afar or to explore with strenuous foot the 
innermost recesses of the wooded valley or the topmost 
pinnacle of some white summit, whence a bewildering 
panorama of matchless mountain scenery is unfolded 
before his delighted gaze, need not endure a single priva- 
tion or discomfort in his quest. In all the luxury of the 
modern sleeping-car the traveller is rapidly transported 
into the very heart of the mountain world. Much of it 
may be enjoyed without passing from the sight and 
sound of the great railroad artery, where charming hotels 
and rustic chalets keep him in comfort during his stay, 
and combine with the unsurpassed scenery to lengthen 
it to the utmost limit. 

But to view the grandest mountains and obtain the 
finest climbs, it is necessary to camp out for a short or 
long period, and as this mode of life is one of the most 
delightful of experiences, the necessity enhances the 
pleasure of one's holiday. It adds to all the varied 
charms of scenery a free and healthful life, long journeys 
through primeval forests, scented with the sweet fra- 
grance of the balsam-fir, the fording of great rivers, and 



6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the enjoyment of the numerous attractions, human as 
well as scenic, of a roving life. 

The Canadian Rocky Mountains form the northern 
portion of the great Cordilleran chain, which spans the 
Continent of North America from Mexico to the shores 
of the Arctic Ocean. The characteristics of the ranoe 
vary largely in its long-drawn sweep from sunny south 
to icy north ; the structure and the scenery change from 
time to time as one passes from one section to another 
along its mighty length. The farther north the latitude, 
the more the mountains in general diminish until they 
die down into insignificance. 

But, though the highest individual peaks and the 
greatest mean elevation are found south of the Canadian 
border-line, the general character becomes more abrupt 
and rugged, more alpine in its vast areas of glacier and 
striking grandeur of pinnacle and precipice, till, in the 
region between the 50th and 53d parallels, the only real 
counterpart of the Alps is found. The culminating 
point is reached in the centre of this section, where, just 
north of 52 ° north latitude, the huge Columbia ice-field, 
containing an area df about 200 square miles of solid ice, 
at a mean elevation of nearly 10,000 feet above the sea, 
forms the hydrographical centre of a quarter of the Con- 
tinent, and supplies the head-waters of streams that flow 
to three different oceans : the Athabaska, via the Mac- 
kenzie River, finding its outlet in the Arctic Ocean ; the 
Saskatchewan flowing into the Atlantic at Hudson's 
Bay ; and the Bush River, a tributary of the Columbia, 
reaching the Pacific. 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 7 

The Canadian Rockies are mainly composed of strata 
ranging in age from the Middle Cambrian to Lower 
Carboniferous, and having a minimum thickness of 
20,000 feet. But few traces of igneous rocks are found, 
the outcrop in the Ice River Valley being the most 
important. The mountains rise abruptly from the great 
plateau that forms an approach more than a thousand 
miles in extent, and form a series of parallel ranges, with 
deep intervening valleys, running in a general direction 
from south-east to north-west. East of the Divide, the 
Lower Carboniferous strata are often overlaid by beds of 
Lower Cretaceous, with so imperceptible a break that, 
in spite of the wide difference in age, they are frequently 
indistinguishable were it not for their fossils ; demon- 
strating that prior to the last great upheaval, to which 
the present form is due, little disturbance and no folding 
or crumpling of rocks occurred to any appreciable extent. 
The later disturbing agencies produced, in the eastern 
parts, very regular but complex flexures, usually at high 
angles from the axis of the range and sometimes com- 
pletely overturned, resulting in a general appearance of 
vertical cliffs and long, easy slopes. In the centre the 
strata are fractured and upheaved rather than bent, and 
present a massive, cubical aspect. 

Two interesting features are specially noticeable. 
One, perhaps unique, where great longitudinal valleys 
divide the several ranges, running parallel to the main 
line of the watershed and forming the principal water- 
courses, which zigzag from one to the other through 
narrow defiles broken through the intervening mountains. 



8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The other is that the course of the watershed gets far- 
ther from the plain as it trends northward ; the sources 
of the eastern rivers near the boundary being in the first 
range ; the Kananaskis rises in the second ; the Bow in 
the third ; the North Saskatchewan in the fourth ; and 
the Athabaska in the fifth ; each in turn forcing its way 
through the remaining parallel ridges to the great 
plateau. 

Another characteristic which strikes even the most 
cursory observer is the great wealth of glaciers, 

"Those silent cataracts of frozen splendour 
Singing the eternal praise of God," 

not only in the vast extent of certain ice-fields, such as 
the Waputik and the Columbia (perhaps the largest out- 
side the fringe of Arctic territory), but also in their num- 
ber, scarcely a peak 10,000 feet in altitude being without 
at least one, many possessing more than one, and sundry 
lower mountains also contributing their quota to the 
wonderful array. 

The width of the Rocky Mountains proper averages 
about sixty miles, but the whole mountain system, often 
designated loosely by the same title, stretches from the 
plateau of the North-West Territories to the Pacific 
coast, a distance of nearly ten degrees of longitude. 
Included in this wider system are the Purcell and Sel- 
kirk Ranges (frequently referred to under the latter 
name alone), the Gold and the Coast Ranges, running 
roughly parallel to the line of the Divide. 

The Selkirks, separated from the Rockies by the low- 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 9 

lying valley of the Columbia River, are wholly different 
in structure and considerably older. The rainfall is 
much greater, the vegetation richer, and their mineral 
capacity is considerable. Their elevation is somewhat 
lower than that of the Rockies, only two peaks over 
1 1,000 feet being known, and Mt. Selwyn, near Glacier 
House, 11,038 feet, the highest accurately determined. 

The highest peak known in the Rockies is Mt. 
Robson, near the 53d parallel of latitude, a short distance 
west of the Yellowhead Pass, estimated by the Dominion 
Land Survey at 13,500 feet. The Mt. Columbia sec- 
tion, sixty miles farther south, has, however, a higher 
mean elevation, and contains the grandest peaks and 
glaciers, forming the culmination of the chain ; it is dom- 
inated by Mt. Columbia and Mt. Forbes, the former 
about 12,500 feet in altitude, the latter somewhat over 
12,000 feet. Near the railroad the loftiest mountains 
range from 11,000 to nearly 12,000 feet and average 
almost 1000 feet lower than the northern group. Still 
farther south, with the exception of Mt. Assiniboine, 
1 1,860 feet (the highest summit south of Mt. Forbes), 
the mountains do not rise more than a bare 10,000 feet. 

The line of the Divide, which marks the boundary 
between Alberta and British Columbia, is extraordi- 
narily erratic during much of its explored length, and 
is broken by numerous deep and sharp-cut passes, which 
are remarkably low in comparison with the altitude of 
the peaks, which often tower 6000 to 7000 feet above ; 
whilst from many of the valleys the summits lift their 
heads 1000 to 1500 feet more in almost sheer precipices. 



io IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The timber-limit stands at about 7000 feet, though 
in sheltered aspects and on the Pacific slopes fair-sized 
trees may be met with 500 feet higher. There is little 
variation from the jack-pine, common spruce, and balsam 
fir, at an elevation of more than 5000 feet, though 
in certain localities Lyall's larch, the cedar, and the hem- 
lock will be found. Cottonwoods abound from 5000 
feet downward, alder and willow chiefly keeping them 
company in the upper valleys. Flowers are abundant 
and remarkable for the brilliancy and variety of their 
colouring. I collected over seventy kinds during a 
single summer in my wanderings, though never once 
hunting for them. Many of them can be gathered at 
any season through the year, excepting winter, by follow- 
ing upward the 

" Living flowers that skirt the eternal frost," 

and late in September large and varied bouquets can be 
gathered in the higher altitudes. 

The Canadian Rocky Mountains are not remarkable 
for a great profusion of animal life, though big game in 
abundance will reward the skilful hunter, provided he is 
accompanied by a guide who is acquainted with the hab- 
its and the habitat of the noble denizens of these grand 
mountain haunts. But unless hunting or research into 
their ways is the specific object of him who penetrates 
these wild recesses, few animals are likely to be seen. 
They are too shy and wary, as a rule, to allow human 
beings to get very close, and as the valleys are almost 
invariably thickly wooded in their lower portions, there 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY n 

is ample opportunity for effectual shelter. Most of 
them, therefore, are invisible unless some lucky chance 
enables the traveller to run across one near the water's 




BABY ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT 
Captured by C Bohren and C. Hasler 

edge or on the shingle flats that are characteristic of 
many of the river-beds. 

Their tracks, however, are of frequent occurrence and 
sometimes very recent. The mule-deer, caribou, and 
occasionally moose, wander along these picturesque val- 
leys and up their rugged sides, especially in the late fall, 



12 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and fur-bearing animals are fairly plentiful. Bears in 
considerable quantities inhabit the woods : the grizzly 
and silvertip, as well as the black and brown and cinna- 
mon, falling victims to the prowess of the hunter or the 
trapper's wiles. Mountain goats are still almost com- 
mon, and on numerous occasions I have come across 
them singly or in small bunches,- and once to the number 
of over fifty in one herd. The mountain sheep is much 
more rare and more restricted in his habitat. 

Of smaller game the lynx, coyote, wolverine, musk- 
rat and marten are most common. Few, if any, beaver 
now remain. Descending to the humbler walks of life, 
we find the marmot, whose whistle often breaks the still- 
ness of the upland solitudes ; the " fretful porcupine " is 
often met with waddling along in anxious haste to find 
a temporary refuge amongst the branches of a kindly 
spruce ; a cheerful red-squirrel, with bushy tail erect, a 
chipmunk, with its bright-striped coat, or a more soberly 
clad gopher will sometimes dash across the trail or make 
remarks from the security of a snug retreat. 

A few ptarmigan and grouse (nicknamed " fool-hens " 
locally) and a rare duck or two represent all that can 
be classed as game. Ordinary bird life is restricted to 
the whisky-jack, a finch or two, and smaller birds (I once 
saw a golden-crested wren by the side of the Kicking 
Horse River). The whisky-jack is the most familiar, 
especially to campers, as he is a regular camp-follower, 
always looking out for scraps and seldom troubled by an 
excess of modesty. His name is a corruption of the 
Indian " Ouiscachon," which passed from whisky-john to 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 13 

the more familiar whisky-jack. Fish-eagles are by no 
means rare, as are fish-hawks, and golden eagles, too, are 
sometimes seen. 

Fish usually abound in the glacial streams and lakes, 
rainbow trout predominating, and they have been caught 
as large as six pounds in weight. They are extremely 
good eating, as the flesh is firm, owing to the coldness 
of the water, and the flavour excellent. 

From the grand rocky obelisk of Mt. Assiniboine, 
which has been styled the Matterhorn of North Amer- 
ica, to the pure, snow-crowned heights of Mt. Columbia, 
it has been the writer's privilege to journey, skirting the 
lofty ridge-pole of the Continent for about two hundred 
miles, and making frequent ascents to the most promi- 
nent of the splendid summits that rise in all the majesty 
of glacier and precipice along the line of the Divide. 
Twenty of these climbs were "first ascents" of peaks 
over 10,000 feet, and a dozen more of points slightly 
below that altitude ; and it is of this region, the most 
beautiful as well as the most accessible portion of the 
Canadian Rockies, comprising all the loftiest known 
peaks, except Mt. Robson, that the present volume 
treats. 

This territory may be divided into four chief groups, 
severed by low passes easily available for horses. The 
first and last of these groups are subdivided by higher 
passes, likewise possible for animals, but may be conven- 
iently dealt with singly. 

The southernmost is dominated by Mt. Assiniboine, 
and extends from the White Man Pass (6807 feet) to 



i 4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the Vermilion Pass (5265 feet), a distance of about forty 
miles. Until Simpson Pass is reached (6884 feet), no 
peak challenges notice, but beyond, Mt. Ball (10,900) 
and Storm Peak (10,330) introduce us to the mass of 
peaks that form the Bow or Laggan Group. This is not 
more than twenty miles in length, and is bounded on the 
north-west by Hector Pass, crossed by the Canadian 
Pacific Railway at an elevation of 5296 feet above sea- 
level. It includes the famous mountains of the Valley 
of the Ten Peaks and Lake Louise, the loftiest of which 
are Deltaform (10,905), Hungabee (11,305), Lefroy 
(11,290), and Victoria (11,400), on the Divide, and, 
higher than all, Mt. Temple (11,637), jutting eastward 
from the watershed. To the west, the mass of Cathedral 
Mountain and Mt. Stephen points to the Ottertail 
Group, well off the line of the Divide and most conspicu- 
ous with its three noble summits, Mt. Vaux (10,741), the 
Chancellor (10,780), and the magnificent triple-headed 
Mt. Goodsir, said to be nearly 12,000 feet in altitude. 
Returning to the watershed, the area between 
Hector Pass and Howse Pass is occupied by the Wapu- 
tik Range, the only one of the four main groups to bear 
an official title ; but, whilst it contains vast ice-fields and 
numerous glaciers, no peak exceeds 11,000 feet, the 
loftiest being Howse Peak and Mt. Balfour, each about 
10,800 feet, which are supreme in the northern and 
southern halves. At Howse Pass there is a sudden 
drop from Howse Peak to 4800 feet, and a right-angled 
bend which brings us to the outposts of the culminating 
section of the Canadian Rockies. Here are combined 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 



T 5 



the striking and lofty peaks that characterize the 
Laggan Group and the great snow-fields that mark the 
Waputik ; and both are on a vaster and a grander scale 
than heretofore. 

Strange to say, this enormous area of mountains, 
more than sixty miles in length and containing nearly 
twenty peaks of very conspicuous elevation, has no 
distinctive name, and, except the section nearest to 
civilization, none of the subdivisions has been singled 
out for designation. The watershed is most eccentric, 
eight or nine sudden zigzags, often almost right-angled, 
marking its course from Howse Pass to the head-waters 
of the Athabaska River, and adding probably fifty per 
cent to the air-line distance. 

Continuing from Howse Pass, we first come to the 
Freshfield Group, composed principally of peaks named 
after distinguished members of the Alpine Club. Be- 
yond it, standing by itself, off the line of the Divide, is 
Mt. Forbes, a huge massif 1 surmounted by a striking 
pyramid. Next comes what may be called the Lyell 
subdivision, taking in Mt. Lyell, Gable Peak, and Mt. 
Alexandra. These three sections combine to form the 
southern half of the great group, and Thompson Pass 
(6800 feet) connects the deep valleys of the West Branch 
of the North Saskatchewan and the East Fork of Bush 
River, which cut the group in two. Mt. Bryce (11,750 
feet) rises isolated to the west, projecting over the Bush 
Valley, whilst Mt. Saskatchewan (11,000 feet) is a con- 
spicuous vis-a-vis on the eastern side. Thus we 

1 The entire block of a mountain, including buttresses and spurs. 



16 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

approach Mt. Columbia, the monarch of the region, 
from whence three ranges strike out: eastward, to the 
Dome (11,650) and Mt. Athabaska (11,900); northward, 
into the forks of the Athabaska River, where the Twins 
and Mt. Alberta may exceed 12,000 feet, and Mts. Stut- 
field and Woolley and Diadem Peak are very little 
lower ; and to the north-west, along the curving water- 
shed, a land as yet unknown in detail. 

Such is a cursory survey of the chief features of this 
fascinating region, some of the interesting points of 
which are described particularly in the following pages. 

In earlier days the glories of these mountains lay 
unnoticed or unknown. Stray bands of Indians passed 
along the wooded valleys and across the flower-strewn 
alps in search of the abundant game whose haunts were 
in these mountain fastnesses. But the peerless peaks 
that towered above, the lovely lakes enshrined amidst the 
rich forest growth, the sparkling cataracts and foaming 
streams, were unconsidered items of their wonted 
environment, useful alone as a habitat for their accus- 
tomed prey. 

As time went on, the pioneer of Anglo-Saxon 
civilization, pushing his resistless western way, reached 
the great barrier of ice-clad peaks and penetrated here 
and there the lower passes that link the richer lands of 
the Atlantic and Pacific slopes, meeting and trading 
with the Indians at various points. One of the most 
notable of these is the Kootanie Plain, near the head- 
waters of the North Saskatchewan, where something 
approaching to an annual fair was held. 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 17 

In 1 793, a dozen years before the famous Lewis and 
Clark expedition across the States, the first recorded 
journey from ocean to ocean was made by Alexander 
Mackenzie, whose name will always be perpetuated by 
the mighty river of the Great North-West. He crossed 
the Rocky Mountains at a point far to the north of the 
vast alpine world just described, travelling up the Peace 
River to its source and reaching the Divide in latitude 
54 24' north, where the altitude was only 2000 feet 
above the sea. Thence he proceeded to the coast, 
returning just two months later on his homeward march. 

Sixteen years later, in 1809, Simon Fraser, Jules 
Quesnel, and John Stuart crossed the Rockies farther 
south, and voyaged down the Fraser River under the 
impression that it was the Columbia. In 181 7, a most 
ill-fated expedition under the leadership of Ross Cox r 
consisting of eighty-six persons of various nationalities,, 
journeyed up the Columbia River from Astoria and 
crossed the Athabaska Pass, 52 27' north latitude, many 
perishing of starvation on the way, and only a remnant 
escaping with their lives. 

This same pass was crossed in the same direction in 
1827 by David Douglas, the botanist, after whom the 
Douglas fir is named, and his account of the two guard- 
ian mountains of the pass, called by him Mts. Brown 
and Hooker, and estimated at 16,000 to 17,000 feet in 
height, has brought these peaks, now shown to be no 
more than 9000 to 10,000 feet, seventy long years of 
spurious fame, which still is hard to combat. Between 
the two peaks lies the famous "Committee's Punch- 



18 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

bowl," a little circular tarn about twenty yards in diam- 
eter, having an outlet at each end, one of which runs 
towards the Atlantic and the other to the Pacific. The 
reputation of the two mountains has been responsible 
for several expeditions in later days, and the conflicting 
accounts, which, however, were unanimous in steadily 
reducing the gigantic altitudes ascribed to them by 
Douglas, provoked the humorous prophecy that they 
would eventually be found to be only holes in the 
ground. 

The earliest account of a journey across the range 
in the immediate neighbourhood of the present transcon- 
tinental highway, dates from 1841, when Sir George 
Simpson, in the course of the first overland journey 
round the world from east to west, traversed the pass 
that bears his name, a few miles west of Banff. His 
approach w r as by the Bow River, now the best-known 
route into the heart of the Canadian Rockies. 

Then came the news of gold, and an. immediate rush 
ensued from east to west to seek the treasures of the 
hills: both north and south of the great culminating 
mass of glacier-bearing peaks, passes w T ere sought and 
conquered, and rough wagon trails constructed by the 
immigrants. This influx of inhabitants and the stir of 
gold excitement led to the expedition sent by the British 
Government in 1857, headed by Captain Palliser. His 
party, chief amongst whom was Dr. Hector, perhaps the 
best known of all the explorers of the Rockies, investi- 
gated five passes across the Continental watershed, — 
the Kootenay, Kananaskis, Vermilion, Kicking Horse 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 19 

(now called Hector), and Howse Passes, — besides three 
lesser passes between important valleys on the same side 
of the Divide, — Bow Pass and those from the head-waters 
of the Kootenay River to the Beaverfoot and the 
Columbia. An immense area of country amongst the 
mountains, in the foothills, and on the plains was also 
thoroughly explored. 

Simultaneous with this expedition was Lord South- 
esk's visit to the Rockies, and a year or two later Vis- 
count Milton and Dr. Cheadle made an extended journey 
through the mountains, sport being the main incentive 
in these two latter trips. 

Next came the Railroad, rendered a necessity by the 
formation of the Dominion of Canada in 1867, and the 
union of British Columbia with it four years later. The 
barrier of the mountains severed the newly admitted 
province so effectually from the rest of the Dominion 
that its only outlet for commerce was through the States, 
and self-interest must of necessity have driven the inhab- 
itants, however loyal, from their allegiance, had not that 
far-sighted politician, Sir John A. Macdonald, recognized 
the inevitable result before it was too late, and promised 
a Government railroad across the Rockies to unite the 
interests and commerce of the entire Dominion. Nu- 
merous passes, etc., were surveyed, many of them new, 
and finally, in 1885, after the enterprise had been handed 
over to a corporation, the Canadian Pacific Railway Com- 
pany, the route was constructed as at present. 

The Dominion Land Survey and Geological Survey 
did most valuable work in the eighties; Dr G, M c 



20 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Dawson's expedition of 1885 and the work of Mr. J. J. 
McArthur being specially notable, and the latter was the 
pioneer of mountain-climbing in the Rockies, his ascent 
of Mt. Stephen calling for particular commendation. 

This paved the way for the exploitation of the moun- 
tains for their own sakes. The railway gave easy access 
to the hitherto unknown or far too distant peaks, glaciers, 
and valleys. These now became the opportunity for 
those in search of fresh fields and pastures new, in which 
to spend a pleasant and profitable vacation. The charm 
of the unknown, the fascination of the peaks, attracted 
the amateur explorer and the mountaineer. 

No sport appeals to all the aspirations of complex 
manhood in so satisfying a degree as mountaineering, 
besides the great advantage it possesses in having prac- 
tically no age limit. All the artistic instincts are 
aroused by the wondrous beauty and grandeur of such 
scenery as Switzerland or its American counterpart, the 
Canadian Rockies, so lavishly display. Hundreds of 
pictures, exquisite in form and composition, variety and 
colouring, charm the eye of the climber amidst the lofty 
ice-bound peaks, the jagged ruined crags, the glittering 
glaciers, the dense dark forests, flower-strewn meadows, 
sunny lakes and streams and waterfalls, that everywhere 
abound. The scientist finds in the structure of the 
mighty ranges and the fascinating phenomena of the 
desolate glaciers a constant source of interest. The 
botanist has his trees and shrubs and flowers, and a 
limitless and untried field before him. The fauna are 
fairly numerous and uncommon. The athlete, pure and 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 21 

simple, finds scope for all his energies and love of con- 
quest in the battle against snow and ice, precipice and 
pinnacle, cornice and avalanche. The more formidable 
the foe, the greater is the joy of conflict; the more nu- 
merous and serious the difficulties, the greater the attrac- 
tion for the true mountaineer and the more complete 
his satisfaction if skill and patience can surmount the 
obstacles and win a way to the desired goal. It is a vast 
mistake to think that danger as danger lends any en- 
chantment to the climb: what the mountaineer delights 
in is bringing skill and science so to bear upon the diffi- 
culties that would be dangers to the less gifted or expe- 
rienced, that their hazards are eliminated. Finally, 
the .panoramas from the lofty summits are overwhelming 
in their comprehensiveness and sublimity. And, added 
to all, in Canada there still exists that chiefest charm of 
novelty and adventure, the thrill of climbing virgin peaks, 
of traversing untrodden valleys, of viewing regions never 
seen before by human eyes. 

To the Selkirks belongs the honour of earliest alpine 
fame, and the names of the Revs. W. S. Green and 
H. Swanzy, members of the Alpine Club, head the roll of 
climbers, with the year 1888 standing out as the date 
of the birth of mountaineering in Canada; and the 
former's book " Among the Selkirk Glaciers " had much 
to do with the first awakening of interest in the Ameri- 
can Switzerland. Two years later, Messrs. Huber and 
Sulzer, of the Swiss Alpine Club, made the first ascent 
of Mt. Sir Donald, the most conspicuous and noted peak 
of the Selkirk Range. The same summer two more 



22 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

English members, Messrs. H. Topham and Forster, 
explored a portion of that district, but still the loftier 
Rocky Mountains proper remained untouched. 

In 1893, however, Messrs. W. D. Wilcox and S. E. 
S. Allen, both Yale students, commenced the valuable 
series of explorations in the neighbourhood of the 
Divide, which opened up a vast area of new ground 
and introduced the rope and ice-axe with conspicuous 
success. The splendid work of Mr. Wilcox during 
a number of years, from Fortress Lake in the north to 
the head-waters of the Kananaskis River in the south, 
and his charming book, place him in the forefront 
amongst those who have in modern days brought into 
prominence this magnificent mountain world, though 
he makes no claims to be a mountaineer. 

The next year was signalized by the appearance of 
the members of the Appalachian Mountain Club, of 
Boston, headed by Professor Charles E. Fay, and to the 
Club, and preeminently to the Professor (just reelected 
to the Presidency for the fourth time, and the first Presi- 
dent of the American Alpine Club), no tribute of praise 
and admiration can be too lavishly bestowed by all 
who love the peaks and other noble features of this wild 
home of Nature's grandest works. The names of Philip 
Abbot, C. S. Thompson, and G. M. Weed shine spe- 
cially forth amongst the numerous members of the Club 
who have contributed to the long list of first ascents 
and new discoveries ; and as pioneers, without previ- 
ous alpine experience or the benefit of guides, the value 
of their achievements is enhanced tenfold. 




MT. SIR DONALD 



23 



THE MOUNTAINS AND THEIR HISTORY 25 

1896 stands forth in melancholy prominence as the 
year that witnessed the first, and happily the last, fatal 
accident that tarnishes the otherwise singularly bright 
escutcheon of the record of Canadian mountaineering. 
The foremost climber fell in the hour of victory, amongst 
the peaks he loved so well, leaving a memory that has 
been an inspiration to many a climber since. 

1897 also is conspicuous amongst the years of alpine 
chronology in Canada, by the arrival of the first profes- 
sional Swiss guide to bring to bear upon the problems 
of Canadian peaks the experience and skill evolved in 
his native Alps. Peter Sarbach came over with Pro- 
fessor Dixon, Professor Collie and Mr. G. P. Baker, of 
the Alpine Club, and inaugurated the long series of 
successful climbs which has now grown to most impos- 
ing proportions. 

The name of Professor J. Norman Collie is writ 
large upon the tablets of Canadian mountain explora- 
tion : no less than four times has he, in company with 
members of the Alpine Club, journeyed all the way to 
Canada from England, and he has opened out the 
splendid northern region to the world, his map being 
the only one in existence covering at all adequately that 
important section of the Rockies ; and as a mountaineer 
he holds the foremost place. 

Two other names there are which cannot be omitted 
in any resume of mountain history, though many more 
deserve inclusion in the list. The late Mr. Jean Habel, 
a veteran alpinist of Berlin, to whom is due the opening 
up of the Yoho Valley, amongst other useful explora- 



26 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

tions, was an enthusiast on the subject of the opportu- 
nities and the delights of the Canadian Rockies, and his 
untimely death in 1902 has been a blow to the cause of 
the peaks. Mr. Edward Whymper, another veteran of 
world-wide fame, spent six months in 1901 amongst 
these summits and returned to England full of en- 
thusiasm and admiration for the immensity of the 
alpine area, the grandeur of the peaks, and the sublimity 
of the scenery throughout the entire region, and they 
have drawn him yet again across the ocean to pay 
another visit to their neighbourhood. 1 

Such is the great chain of the Divide, for a brief 
section of its long-drawn line ; such is an incomplete 
and all too bald epitome of its history. The everlasting 
hills, the peerless valleys, which have fascinated thou- 
sands in the past and called them back time and again 
by their enchantments, remain to cast their wizard spell 
on countless thousands more. Year by year new 
beauties are still being discovered far and near, whilst 
yet more distant regions, with untrodden peaks and 
glaciers, await the enterprising traveller, who, with 
camping outfit and string of pack-horses, plunges still 
farther into the unknown to enjoy the unspeakable de- 
light of discovering for himself new scenes that in some 
future day thousands will be seeking beyond the limits 
of the present round of famed resorts. 

1 It is interesting to note that Dr. Hector (now Sir James) revisited 
some of the scenes of his early explorations in 1904, 47 years after his first 
expedition. 



CHAPTER II 

BANFF THE BEAUTIFUL 

The usual approach to the Canadian Rockies is 
from the east, and by a happy chance the great trans- 
continental route of the Canadian Pacific Railway, con- 
structed along a line selected solely on engineering 
grounds, passes through by far the most attractive sec- 
tion of the mountains, both in the Rockies and the Sel- 
kirks. This has the double advantage of providing an 
infinitely finer outlook from the cars than any other 
transcontinental road and also enabling the traveller to 
visit the most exquisite mountain scenery in North 
America with the utmost comfort and convenience. 

The Canadian Pacific Railway enjoys the distinction 
of owning more miles of line than any other railroad 
company in the world (upwards of 10,000), and of 
possessing the only trains which run from end to end 
of the Continent without a change of cars, 2906 miles 
from Montreal to Vancouver, 500 miles being through 
a continuous panorama of the grandest mountain views 
visible from a railroad track. 

The history of the Railway dates from the admission 
of British Columbia as a province of the Dominion in 
1871. The work connected with the survey was tremen- 
dous. The rocks and lakes and rivers of the eastern 

27 



28 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

portion, the unknown stretches of vast prairie land, and, 
most formidable of all, the barrier of the mountains, 500 
miles across, presented difficulties almost insurmount- 
able. But in 1875 the work of construction was begun 
as a Government enterprise. The herculean nature of 
the undertaking, the difficulties occasioned by changes 
of ministries, and other causes of delay, resulted in the 
surrender of the work to a private company, and in 1881 
the Canadian Pacific Railway Company was organized : 
1920 miles remained to be constructed, and the Company 
agreed to complete the line within ten years. So mar- 
vellously rapid, however, was the progress made (the 
prairie section being built at an average daily rate 
of more than three miles), that on the 7th of Novem- 
ber, 1885, considerably less than half the contracted 
period, the last spike was driven at Craigellachie, 351 
miles from the western terminus, and the longest con- 
tinuous line in the world was finished. 

It is by this romantic route that we set out from 
Montreal on board the well-equipped " Imperial Lim- 
ited," and for three days the constantly varied scenery 
holds our attention almost without a break even before 
we reach the crowning glory of the Rocky Mountains. 

First the valley of the Ottawa River is traversed for 
upwards of 300 miles, mostly beside the broad waters of 
that noted lumber highway. Beyond, a wild territory of 
forests, lakes and rocks is entered, stretching to the shores 
of Lake Superior. For nearly 200 miles the waters of 
this huge inland sea are skirted, rock cuttings, viaducts 
and tunnels frequently occurring along the rugged in- 



BANFF THE BEAUTIFUL 



29 



dented coast. At its western end the enormous grain 
elevators of Fort William introduce us to a new realm 
and mark the gateway of the world's foremost granary. 
A picturesque country next succeeds, bold and rocky, a 
network of lakes and waterways, clothed with abundant 
timber, until the limits of Manitoba are entered on and 
the first prairie lands appear in sight. 

Almost exactly half-way across the Continent stands 
Winnipeg, only a few short years ago no more than the 
little trading-post of Fort Garry, but now the flourishing 
metropolis of the vast grain area of Western Canada. 
Numerous lines branch out in all directions across 
the rich wheat lands, bringing thousands of acres of 
grain into close connection with the markets of both 
hemispheres. 

The train rolls on through miles and miles of almost 
unbroken fields of waving wheat, with neat and pros- 
perous homesteads, gradually ascending the long steppes 
of the great North- West. Soon the farms become fewer, 
the wild, undulating expanse more and more free from 
signs of human encroachment. Far blue hills occasion- 
ally break the wide level range of the horizon. Herds of 
cattle dot the landscape, antelope scour the plain, a stray 
coyote lopes leisurely along, cranes, ducks, geese, prairie 
chickens, snipe and swans may be seen in this paradise 
of game. Here and there the smoke-stained cone of a 
tepee indicates the presence of the ancient owners of the 
soil, buffalo wallows and trails proclaim the numbers 
of the now departed millions that once ranged the 
limitless expanse, and the red coat of a member of 



30 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the North-West Mounted Police tells of the new 
regime. 

Farther west the ranching region is approached. The 
winters are much milder than in the wheat belt, and the 
warm " Chinook " winds melt the snow at frequent inter- 
vals, enabling cattle and horses to forage for themselves. 
The Bow River traverses this territory and is now 
followed almost to its source in the heart of the Rocky 
Mountains, which already, in clear weather, may have 
been seen, white and distant on the horizon, as far away 
as Tilley, 150 miles from their base. 

The prairies, wearily monotonous to many, have yet 
a fascination all their own and hold a potent sway over 
the lives of countless devotees. Whatever other claims 
they may possess, there is no question that if one has 
the good fortune en route to witness a characteristic 
prairie sunset, there will be few more lasting and entranc- 
ing memories in the most richly endowed experience. 

At Calgary we enter the low foothills, the last stage of 
the 1400 miles of gradually rising steppes ; the snow-clad 
peaks rise closer and frowning precipices loom grand 
and lofty in a seemingly unbroken wall, rising abruptly 
5000 feet directly from the plain. The foaming river 
swirls beside the track, and suddenly we swing between 
the giant portals of a narrow gateway and are engulfed 
in a moment by the mountain mass. It is a fitting 
introduction to the superb scenery that holds one 
enthralled for the next 500 miles. 

From the first moment of entrance striking peaks 
give earnest of the galaxy of kingly summits of the main 



BANFF THE BEAUTIFUL 31 

Continental range. Prominent on the left are Pigeon 
Mountain, Wind Mountain, and the effective group of 
the Three Sisters ; right in front rises the majestic form 
of Cascade Mountain, 9875 feet above the sea, 5500 
above the railroad track, though seeming in the clear air 
not more than half the height. At its base we turn 
sharply to the left, rounding the little insulated Tunnel 
Mountain, and, passing a huge corral where a herd of 
buffalo is kept, besides antelope and other small game, 
we arrive at Banff, the first of the three mountain centres 
of the Rockies at which it is imperative to stay. 

We have now entered the first of the great National 
Parks, set apart by the Government to preserve and 
enhance the natural beauties and resources of these 
unrivalled mountain fastnesses. The Rocky Mountain 
Park stretches from the great wall that overhangs the 
foothills to the Divide, where it is joined by the almost 
equally extensive Yoho Park Reserve embracing a vast 
tract on the Pacific slope. The two contain upwards of 
4500 square miles, whilst in the Selkirks another smaller 
Park has also been reserved. 

Banff the Beautiful is an .alliteration that is not mis- 
applied, and to appreciate the appropriateness of the 
title, Tunnel Mountain, a strangely isolated rocky mass 
1000 feet above the valley, should be ascended, — our 
first ascent in the Canadian Rockies, — and the view will 
never be forgotten. 

We are not yet in the land of giant peaks, only a 
single one in sight surpassing 10,000 feet, though square 
Mt. Massive has some alpine features ; but the restful 



32 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

beauty of the valley, gemmed by the ruddy waters 
of the Vermilion Lakes, threaded by the lazy river 
with its contrasted colouring of rich translucent green, 
and completely circled by a wall of sheltering peaks, 
strikes home to the heart and remains enshrined there 
as a joy for ever. Mt. Rundle's overhanging precipices 
commemorate an early missionary, and from thence the 
eye travels past the deep wooded cleft of the Spray Valley 
to the Bourgeau Range and Mt. Massive, severed by 
Simpson Pass, across the Bow River to the serrated 
Sawback Mountains and the impressive mass of Cascade 
Mountain ; then, turning eastward, the long line of the 
frontier ranges stretches as far as eye can reach beyond 
the placid waters of Lake Minnewanka, Mt. Aylmer, 
J o,333 feet in altitude, standing out preeminently. 

At our feet the river, suddenly swerving to avoid 
the little mountain thrown across its path, forms a pic- 
turesquely foaming cataract — Bow Falls — and, again 
turning abruptly at its confluence with the Spray, cuts 
its way between the lofty cliffs of Tunnel Mountain and 
Mt. Rundle and swings round the latter's base towards 
the Rocky Mountain Gap and onward to the plains. 

Banff is a place for leisure rather than the strenuous 
life. Pleasant drives and rides and walks abound ; the 
river invites laziness in a canoe, and many a delightful 
hour may be spent amongst the shallow lakes or thread- 
ing the narrow waterways amidst the trees and bushes. 
Weird little Sundance Canyon, the wooded valley of the 
Spray, Lake Minnewanka, and various minor altitudes 
can easily be reached by trail, and the Hot Springs 




33 



BANFF THE BEAUTIFUL 35 

demand a visit and a swim in the warm aerated 
depths. 

For the aspiring mountaineer Banff offers but little 
immediate attraction except for training and an intro- 
duction to the topography of the Rockies, although it is 
the starting-point for Mt. Assiniboine, one of the most 
famous and fascinating peaks in Canada. 

Quite a little interesting rock-work can be obtained 
upon Mt. Edith (9154 feet), first climbed by Professor 
Collie and Fred Stephens in 1900, and likened by the 
former to the Little Dru from Montanvert in miniature. 
Up to the col 1 connecting Mt. Edith with the next peak 
to the north, the climbing, writes Professor Collie, 2 " was 
steep and somewhat rotten, but not very difficult. . . . 
On reaching the col, ... it seemed impossible to climb 
direct to the summit; so, crossing the col to the western 
side, a series of traverses and climbs through holes in the 
ridge were made : we next crossed some very sloping 
slabs overhanging dizzy precipices ; then climbed up 
excessively rotten gullies, first one way then another, 
but always getting higher, till we emerged quite unex- 
pectedly on to the top." 

My brother and I selected Cascade Mountain as our 
training-ground, and the wearisome and arduous ascent 
gave us all the exercise we wanted for one day, although 
the climbing presented not one single difficulty. Mar- 
vellous tales were told the previous evening of its 

1 A notch or pass. A large number of technical mountaineering terms 
are taken from the French. 

2 " Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies,' 1 p. 220. 



^ 



IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



tremendous problems, — how even with a guide (a na- 
tive, — not, of course, a Swiss guide) two days should be 
devoted to the task ; how certain enthusiasts had dared 
to go alone and had got lost and wandered for I dare 
not say how many days and nights, till rescued by a 
search party, and so forth. Doubtless the main object 




CASCADE MOUNTAIN 



of these harrowing stories was to secure for some lazy 
man a well-paid job on easy terms. If so, it failed 
entirely, and in spite of dire predictions we preferred to 
trust to our own estimate of the mountain's character 
and were most fully justified. Starting across the 
buffalo corral and up Forty-mile Creek, we traversed 
to the long main ridge of the peak and by it directly to 



BANFF THE BEAUTIFUL 37 

the top. The descent was made right down the straight 
incline, across the creek and home over Stony Squaw 
Mountain in ample time for dinner, without the slightest 
hurry. 

Out of condition, on a scorching August day, it was 
a toilsome undertaking, as the slope is long and tedious, 
encumbered by an embarras de richesse of loose rough 
stones. But it was well worth while enduring all for 
the sake of the view, our first extensive survey of the 
" Promised Land," and it was here that I obtained my 
first glimpse of Mt. Assiniboine, at that time the most- 
talked-of peak in the Canadian Rockies, christened 
"the Matterhorn of North America," and deemed as 
inaccessible as its prototype was forty years before. 

Little did I dream, though it then stirred every 
mountaineering impulse in my being (and there is a 
considerable number of them there), that twelve months 
later I should have the opportunity of disproving the 
truth of this distinguished reputation, and not only 
visiting the famous mountain, but standing on its top- 
most pinnacle. 



CHAPTER III 

MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 

Three chief causes have combined to bring Mt. 
Assiniboine into special prominence among the peaks 
of Canada. First, its remarkable resemblance from cer- 
tain aspects to the world-famed Matterhorn ; though 
perhaps the Dent Blanche is more nearly its prototype 
in the better-known Swiss Alps. Secondly, the exqui- 
site photographs and fascinating descriptions of Mr. W. 
D. Wilcox, the principal explorer of that region and the 
mountain's earliest biographer. And, lastly, the fact 
that it has repelled more assaults by mountain-climbers 
than any other peak in the Canadian Rockies, and 
gained a reputation at one time of extreme difficulty or 
even inaccessibility. 

Its massive pyramid forms a conspicuous landmark 
from almost every considerable eminence for scores of 
miles around, towering fully 1500 feet above its neigh- 
bours, and by its isolation no less than by its splendid 
outline commanding attention and admiration. 

It enjoys the proud distinction of being the loftiest 
mountain south of the railroad, 11,860 feet above sea- 
level, and is situated on the Continental watershed ; 
and its mighty mass, with five huge spurs, covers an 
area of some thirty square miles and harbours fully a 

38 




39 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 41 

dozen picturesque lakes within the shelter of its giant 
arms. 

The peak is grandest from its northern side. It 
rises, like a monster tooth, from an entourage of dark 
cliff and gleaming glacier, 5000 feet above the valley of 
approach ; the magnificent triangular face, barred with 
horizontal belts of perpendicular cliff and glistening 
expanses of the purest snow and ice, which constitutes 
the chief glory of the mountain, soaring more than 3000 
feet directly from the glacier that sweeps its base. On 
the eastern and the southern sides the walls and but- 
tresses are practically sheer precipices 5000 to 6000 feet 
in vertical height, but the contour and character of the 
grand northern face more than compensate for the less 
sheer and lofty precipices. 

The mighty monolith was named in 1885 by Dr. G. 
M. Dawson, of the Dominion Geological Survey, from a 
tribe of Indians inhabiting the plains, but he and his 
party only viewed it from afar. The first white men to 
explore the immediate vicinity, so far as can be learned, 
were Messrs. R. L. Barrett and T. E. Wilson, who, in 
1893, made an expedition to the mountain's base. The 
latter is a famous pioneer of the Canadian Rockies, with 
probably a greater knowledge of them than any man has 
ever yet possessed, and his store of yarns, drawn almost 
entirely from personal experience or that of his im- 
mediate associates, is as full of interest and valuable 
information as it is extensive. He and Mr. Barrett 
crossed the Simpson Pass and followed down the 
Simpson River to the mouth of a tributary flowing 



42 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

straight from the direction of Mt. Assiniboine. Ascend- 
ing this with infinite difficulty, they crossed over to the 
North Fork of the Cross River and thence upward to 
their goal. 

The ensuing summer Mr. S. E. S. Allen visited the 
northern side by the same route, and the next year both 
Mr. Allen and Mr. Barrett again succumbed to the 
fascinations of the neighbourhood and were found once 
more encamped under the shadow of the monarch of the 
southern Rockies. The latter traveller was accom- 
panied by Mr. J. F. Porter and Mr. W. D. Wilcox, who 
made some careful observations for altitude, and has 
given us a charming and instructive description of his 
wanderings in his magnificently illustrated book, " The 
Rockies of Canada." Messrs. Barrett and Wilcox with 
Bill Peyto completed the circuit of the mountain on foot, 
a laborious but interesting undertaking which occupied 
them a fraction more than two days. Beautiful valleys, 
heading in glaciers and adorned with lakes, alternated 
with rough and precipitous intervening ridges, each in 
turn having to be crossed. A large portion of the first 
day was spent traversing a valley devastated by a huge 
forest fire ; the denseness of the charred and fallen 
trunks, sometimes piled ten or twelve feet above the 
ground, rendered progress painfully slow and toilsome, 
and, on emerging " black as coal-heavers from our long 
walk in the burnt timber, seeking a refuge in the rocky 
ledges of the mountains, and clad in uncouth garments 
torn and discoloured, we must," writes Mr. Wilcox, 
"have resembled the aboriginal savages of this wild 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 43 

region." 1 Finally, by following a tiny goat track, dis- 
covered on the face of a dangerous-looking ridge, they 
reached the valley of the North Fork of the Cross 
River, falling in with Messrs. Smith and Allen, en- 
camped in that pleasant spot and bent on similar 
investigations, and early next morning regained their 
camp on the shore of Lake Assiniboine. 

Amongst the many valuable results of this complete 
inspection of the massif from every point of the com- 
pass, much information appealing particularly to the 
mountaineer was obtained. The contour of the main 
peak was shown to be very different from the symmetri- 
cal cone anticipated by the view from the north ; the 
previously hidden southern ridge was found to extend 
a considerable distance at a comparatively easy angle to 
an abrupt and absolutely vertical precipice, and broken 
only by a deep notch that transforms the southern ex- 
tremity into a sharp subsidiary peak. The eastern face 
defies approach to the summit from that direction, as 
does the southern buttress, but the south-western side 
developed a more practicable line of ascent and one 
that offered every prospect of success. 

Not until 1899, however, was any attempt made 
to scale these attractive heights. That summer Mr. 
Wilcox returned to the neighbourhood accompanied by 
Mr. H. G. Bryant, of Philadelphia, well-known to those 
interested in Arctic exploration, and Mr. L. J. Steele, 
an Englishman. These two were the first to attack the 
formidable citadel s and narrowly escaped losing their 

1 " The Rockies of Canada;' p. 89. 



44 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

lives in the attempt. They ascended the north-west 
arete x to an altitude of about 10,000 feet, when they 
were compelled to desist after several hours of hard 
climbing, an approaching storm assisting to hasten their 
descent. " They had just come to the top of the last ice 
slope, when Steele's foothold gave way, and he fell, 
dragging Bryant after him. There was but one possible 
escape from a terrible fall. A projecting rock of con- 
siderable size appeared not far below, and Steele, with 
a skilful lunge of his ice-axe, swung round to it and 
anchored himself in a narrow crevice, where the snow 
had melted away. No sooner had he come to a stop 
than Bryant shot over him from above and likewise 
found safety. Otherwise they would have fallen about 
six hundred feet, with serious, if not fatal, results." 2 

Another year went by, and a far more serious climb- 
ing expedition was fitted out to try to conquer the now 
famous mountain. Two brothers, the Messrs. Walling, 
of Chicago, with larger enthusiasm than experience in 
matters mountaineering, took with them three Swiss 
guides to force a way to the tantalizing summit. Camp- 
ing, as usual, by the side of Lake Assiniboine, they fol- 
lowed Steele and Bryant's route to the northern glacier, 
ascending thence directly towards the apex by rock out- 
crops and snow-slopes. So far so good, though progress 
was extremely slow even on such an easy task ; but 
when they came to the lowest belt of vertical cliffs the 
retreat was sounded and for the second time victory 
rested with Mt. Assiniboine. 

1 Ridge. 2 W. D. Wilcox in " The Rockies of Canada," p. 109. 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 45 

On the return to Banff the shortest route (geographi- 
cally) was taken, by White Man Pass and down the 
Spray Valley, but through some mismanagement or 
worse, the guides went on ahead, the Wallings were 
lost and, so the story goes, reduced to slaying a horse for 
sustenance before they were discovered by a search party. 
But the whole proceedings of the climb and the return 
were never very fully given to the public. 

Thus far the north-west arete and the north face had 
been unsuccessfully approached, but Mr. Wilcox, mind- 
ful of the easier appearance of the south-western side, 
in 1 90 1 made a determined effort to achieve victory 
from that direction. Mr. Bryant and two Swiss guides, 
E. Feuz and F. Michel, completed the party. 

The main difficulty of this route was the approach 
to the mountain's base with a camping outfit, my more 
recent plan of access never having been deemed worthy 
of consideration as even entering the region of practi- 
cability. So eventually, after a long and toilsome march, 
they found themselves encamped in the deep gorge 
beneath the huge steep mass of the great peak. I shall 
have more to say concerning this side and their line of 
ascent later ; suffice it now briefly to chronicle that, after 
attaining an altitude of 10,850 feet (just 1000 feet below 
the top), the avalanching appearance of the snow, the 
difficulties beyond, the lateness of the hour, and the 
overburdening of Feuz (Michel having had an accident 
on the way out), combined to drive them back. 

Thus the fortress still remained inviolate ; the east- 
ern side a precipice, the southern equally impossible, the 



46 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

northern and south-western faces, if possibly accessible, 
yet strongly guarded, each holding a record of an attack 
repelled. The glacis had proved too much for the 
first party of assailants, the solid rampart of the first 
line of fortifications beat back the next assault, and on 
the opener, more vulnerable side, alpine artillery had 
to be brought into play in order to defeat the last 
attempt. Who should be the next to storm the citadel 
and what the outcome? 

This question was uppermost in many minds when 
the disappointing news of the last failure became known, 
and the pros and cons were most exhaustively debated 
around Mr. Whymper's camp-fire in the upper Yoho 
Valley, where I was having a glorious time amongst the 
untrodden peaks and glaciers of that delightful region. 
Peyto, our outfitter, Mr. Wilcox's companion on the cir- 
cuit of Mt. Assiniboine six years before, added much 
fuel to the already consuming desire to examine and 
if possible ascend the mountain, but the distance and 
expense placed the enterprise beyond my reach, and I 
had sadly given up the whole idea when Peyto, asserting 
that for experienced mountaineers there was absolutely 
no question of a failure, pledged himself that if I would 
go and see and conquer he would undertake to get me 
there within two days from Banff and bring me back in 
less; and he proved even better than his word, although 
the journey had never previously been made in less 
than three days. 

At the end of August, therefore, the weather being 
fine, though showing indications of the inevitable break 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 47 

which comes each year about this date, bringing a snow- 
storm to usher in the Indian summer of September, the 
opportunity arrived. It was " now or never " for this 
season, so I resolved to make a dash for the peak before 
the snow should render it impossible, and, Peyto being 
ready, a start upon the 31st was hastily arranged. 

Thanks to the ready and able cooperation of Miss 
Mollison, the incomparable manager of the Hotel at 
Field, provision^, blankets, etc., were rapidly collected, 
and on the afternoon of the 30th Christian Hasler, 
Christian Bohren and I were in the train bound for 
Banff. Here we w T ere met by Peyto and conducted to 
our tent pitched amongst the bushes near the bank of 
the Bow River. Our object was kept entirely secret, and 
scarcely a soul knew of the starting of the expedition 
at all. 

The next morning was occupied in final arrange- 
ments, making up the packs and loading up, and 
eventually at half-past one the procession set out. First 
the cavalry; Bill Peyto, picturesque and workmanlike, 
led the way upon his trusty mare, then followed four 
pack-horses, the fastest and most reliable of Peyto's 
bunch, laden with tents, provisions, and our miscella- 
neous impedimenta ; and Jack Sinclair, our assistant 
packer, also mounted, brought up the rear, to stimulate 
laggards and maintain the pace. Then came the 
infantry, comprising the two Christians and myself. 
Both the guides were tried companions, especially 
Hasler, who had already made several first ascents with 
me. 



48 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Mt. Assiniboine is only distant from Banff twenty 
miles in an air-line, yet by the shortest route it cannot be 
reached in twice that length of march; the trails are 
rough and often blocked with fallen timber, and no small 
amount of climbing is involved. But all of us were keen 
and determined each to do his best to make the journey 
to the base a record and the expedition a success. 

The afternoon was sultry, with a haze about the sum- 
mits and a look towards the west that boded rain; but 
the barometer stood well and hope was high. 

At first we passed along the dusty road, with the 
cool, peaceful Bow eddying alongside, hemmed in by 
green banks, with overhanging branches dipping lazily 
in the current. Then we turned off into a winding trail 
that meandered among alders and small timber, with 
fallen logs and an occasional morass to vary the mo- 
notony. Close by, an eagle's nest hung in the branches 
of an isolated tree, the memorial of a domestic tragedy. 
Earlier in the summer Mr. Whymper had discovered it, 
had the two fine parent birds shot as specimens, each 
measuring over six feet from tip to tip of wing, and sent 
the baby to the aviary at Vancouver. 

Behind us rose the impressive walls of Cascade 
Mountain ; on our right, across the valley, the sharp 
pinnacles of Mt. Edith pierced the sky; and wooded 
slopes flanked us on the left and rose to the fine summit 
of Mt. Massive right in front. 

Soon we reached Healy Creek where it emerges 
from a narrow gorge, and crossed its double stream, the 
pedestrians having to clamber up behind the horsemen 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 49 

to make the passage dryshod. Leaving the broad, level 
valley of the Bow, and with it every trace of civilization 
for some days to come, we plunged into the ravine beside 
the swift, translucent river, until we mounted a very 
steep trail through thick forest and emerged high above 
the creek in a fine valley whence the retrospective views 
were very beautiful. 

Our path led through a tract of burned and fallen 
timber to more open ground, trending steadily towards 
Simpson Pass, above which stood a gabled mountain, 
with a small glacier cradled on its bosom, against a 
gloomy, ominous background of dark and lurid clouds. 
The valley narrowed before us, well wooded near the 
torrent-bed. On one side rugged summits rose abruptly 
from the thickly timbered slopes ; on the other, the more 
open alps, interspersed with belts and groves of trees, 
bare cliffs and rocky terraces, merged into castellated 
peaks, the topmost crowned with snow. 

As the evening shadows lengthened, before our camp- 
ing-ground was reached, strong gusts of wind came 
sweeping down the gorge, with driving rain beating piti- 
lessly in our faces, but we pressed on until we found a 
pretty and fairly sheltered spot among the woods, where 
we pitched our tents. 

A busy scene ensues. Peyto and Sinclair unload 
and attend to the horses; the guides are energetically 
employed cutting and collecting fuel ; fire and water, the 
opening of boxes and unpacking necessaries are my 
allotted share. In an incredibly short space of time the 
tents are up, the packs made snug, supper is ready, and 



5 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

we are all gathered round the blazing fire fully prepared 
to do ample justice to the bannocks and bacon and the 
huge saucepan full of steaming tea, under the black 
canopy of pines and almost darker sky. 

Next morning we were off at half-past seven, in fair 
weather, though the trees and undergrowth were drip- 
ping. We crossed the stream and, after twenty minutes' 
gradual ascent, diverged from the main trail to Simp- 
son Pass and followed a steep pathway to the south 
through thick firs up a narrow rocky canyon till we 
arrived in a beautiful open park. The carpet of luxuri- 
ant grass and mossy turf was sprinkled gayly, although 
September was upon us, with a wealth of flowers, dark 
groups of trees bordered the rich expanse and crowned 
the knolls that broke its surface here and there, and, 
on either hand, the green slopes, broken by pictu- 
resque rock outcrops, culminated in a line of rugged 
pinnacles. 

The timber-line is passed soon after, and we mount 
steadily to a breezy, undulating alp, green and flower- 
strewn, skirting the Continental watershed, and bearing 
frequent pretty lakelets in the sheltered hollows. Ever 
and anon a deep gorge dips sharply towards the east or 
west, giving a glimpse of larger, wooded valleys, where 
Healy Creek and Simpson River run to join the Bow 
and Kootenay, and finally sink to rest in the waters of 
the rival oceans. 

This upland route was taken by Mr. Wilcox on his 
second journey to Mt. Assiniboine, and it is undoubtedly 
the finest way as well as probably the easiest and quick- 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 5 i 

est, in spite of a terrific 1500 feet of descent to the 
source of the Simpson River. 

About ten o'clock, from a lofty ridge some 2000 feet 
above our camp, we caught our first glimpse of our ob- 
jective peak, bearing from this point a remarkable resem- 
blance to the Swiss Dent Blanche as it loomed through 
the slight haze, fourteen or fifteen miles away, dwarfing 
all the other points and ranges. An hour later, from the 
highest point upon our highland trail, about 7700 feet 
above the sea, we obtained a still better view of the noble 
pyramid, towering above a blue-black ridge hung with 
white glaciers, which lay between us and its base. 

Crossing and recrossing the "backbone of the Con- 
tinent," we skirted the walls of an imposing natural forti- 
fication, fully 2000 feet in height, and, passing under its 
frowning ramparts close to the shores of two or three 
small lakes, halted for lunch near a round pond, from 
which some ducks flew off at our approach, and which, 
from the numerous tracks leading into and out of it, we 
christened " The Bears' Bath-tub." 

All this time the going had been good, and Peyto 
made the most of it, leading at a tremendous rate, with 
Sinclair driving on the pack-animals, we poor two-legged 
tramps having to do our utmost to keep pace with them. 

After lunch a new experience began, where we in 
turn had a conspicuous advantage, — a tremendous drop 
(1500 feet in 55 minutes, pack-horse time) into an ex- 
traordinarily steep, weird valley, narrow and fire-swept, its 
serried ranks of bare and ghostly poles backed by slopes 
of scanty grass and a tumultuous expanse of rough gray 



52 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

rocks and tongues of scree. Towards the lower end an 
intricate maze of fallen logs was encountered, through 
which Peyto steered the horses with marvellous skill and 
rapidity, until we gained the valley of the chief source of 
the Simpson River, barren and boulder-strewn, divided 
into rugged sections by great ridges traversing it from 
side to side. Bare, burned trees reared their gaunt stems 
about us, or, fallen, littered the valley-bed, where straw- 
berries and raspberries, gooseberries and blueberries, 
grew in wild profusion. 

Crossing several of the strange barrier ridges, we 
soon arrived at the head of the valley, a cul-de-sac, with 
a grand amphitheatre of precipices and abrupt acclivities, 
300 feet or more in height, blocking our way and tower- 
ing above the rich green flat, on which we halted for a 
brief well-earned rest beside a tree-girt lakelet, fed by' a 
fine cascade that leaped from the rim of the great cirque 
above. 

A zigzag track conducted us to the lowest point of 
this imposing barrier, and a scene of indescribable bleak- 
ness burst upon our gaze. The sun was hidden by the 
gathering clouds and the leaden sky formed a fit back- 
ground for the rock-bound basin at our feet, hemmed in 
by gray, ruined towers, from which wide belts and taper- 
ing tongues of tumbled scree streamed down among the 
bare poles of the stricken pines, with a tiny tarn, sombre 
and forbidding, in its depths. 

It was a fitting prelude to the long valley on which 
we now entered. Here was the acme of sheer desola- 
tion. Green-gray rocks and stones were strewn and 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 53 

piled in wild confusion amid sparse, stunted pines and 
firs ; crumbling, drab-coloured side-hills were lost in 
jagged, broken ridges and shattered pinnacles, that 
loomed in sullen dulness against the mournful sky, while 
a light drizzle bathed the scene in gloomy haze. Here 
and everywhere along the route the dreary silence and 
the strange scarcity of living things — a notable charac- 
teristic of the Canadian Cordilleras — were very striking. 
The whistle of the marmot, the rare whir of grouse, a 
hawk or eagle, and a little bird or two, with the occa- 
sional tracks of bear or deer, marten or mountain goat, 
alone betrayed that the region is not quite bereft of 
life. 

• Thus we swung on mile after mile, till the melan- 
choly conditions began to change : grass and light 
undergrowth appeared, the clouds broke, and, as we 
neared a rocky lake, Mt. Assiniboine came into view 
once more, about five miles ahead, grander than ever, 
and, in spite of evening gloom, showing some detail 
of its horizontal belts of cliff and smooth, shining icy 
slopes. 

Then came park country, rich green pasturage and 
dark forest belts, with a winding coal-black stream-bed 
meandering in the most abandoned manner through it 
all ; and above, on either side, sharp, serrated ridges, 
severed by wide passes to the Spray and Cross Rivers, 
converged in the mass of Mt. Assiniboine. 

Still on we tramp, weary but buoyed up by the 
knowledge that the goal is near. Darkness falls apace 
and 



54 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

" Far along 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, 
Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, 
But every mountain now hath found a tongue." 

A most impressive welcome from the still unconquered 
mountain, but more sinister than those whose hopes 
depended on fine weather quite appreciated. 

At length, at 7.20, our chosen camping-ground was 
reached, sheltered by a grove of trees, beside a trickling 
rivulet with the dark waters of Lake Assiniboine just 
visible beyond. 

This lake, one of a dozen or more that nestle close 
under the precipices of the giant peak, is nearly two 
miles long, and, like many others in the neighbourhood, 
is without a visible outlet. The waters seem to drain 
away through the loose limestone strata, and in some 
valley far below suddenly burst forth from a mysterious 
subterranean cavern, a full-grown stream. This we were 
able to observe for ourselves at the source of the main 
Simpson River, at the head of the cul-de-sac, some miles 
from the nearest body of water at a higher altitude 
sufficient to produce so large a flow. 

The night was none too promising — warm and 
cloudy, with light showers at intervals and distant mut- 
tering thunder; and, although later on the stars came 
out, ominous clouds still hung heavy round the horizon. 
The silence was broken again and again by the rumble 
and crash of falling ice and stones from the glacier a 
mile away, which aided the anxiety concerning weather 
prospects to drive the slumber from our wearied frames. 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 55 

Nevertheless we were early astir. The moon was 
shining fitfully athwart the clouds and lighting up our 
noble peak with silvery brightness. As the sun rose, 
we had an opportunity of studying the mountain. Our 
camp, at an elevation of about 7200 feet, lay near the 
shore of the lake, a long mile from the cliff over which 
the northern glaciers of Mt. Assiniboine descend abruptly; 
3000 feet above the glacier rises the mighty monolith, a 
relic of the Carboniferous age. Two jagged ridges trend 
sharply upward from the outlying spurs, until they meet 
in a dark rocky apex just below the glistening, snowy 
summit ; between them lies the formidable northern 
face, set at a fearsome angle, and banded with almost 
horizontal strata, which form an impressive alternation 
of perpendicular cliff belts and glassy slopes of ice. 
The lowest band is specially remarkable — a spectacular, 
striated wall of brilliant red and yellow rock, running 
apparently entirely round the mountain, and particularly 
striking where the erosion and disintegration of the 
ridges leave a succession of coloured spires and pin- 
nacles, radiant in the glowing sunshine. 

By the advice of Peyto, the only member of the 
party who had ever been near the peak before, we de- 
termined to make our attempt from the south-western 
side ; but, instead of taking the horses by the long and 
arduous route adopted by Mr. Wilcox and Mr. Bryant 
on the occasion of their last attack, I conceived the plan 
of crossing the outlying spurs at a high altitude on foot 
from the usual base camp, believing that some way, for 
practised mountaineers at least, could be discovered 



56 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

whereby the farther side might be reached and an open 
bivouac be made a starting-point next morning, if it 
proved too long or difficult a task to gain the summit in 
a single day. 

Being wholly unaware of the character of the moun- 
tain on the hidden side, and anticipating considerable 
difficulty in getting to the south-western ridge, by which 
we hoped to reach the point where the last climbers were 
compelled to halt, we had little expectation of being suc- 
cessful on the first day, particularly as the nights were 
closing in at a comparatively early hour. So off we 
started at six o'clock, — Peyto, Hasler, Bohren and I, — 
laden with two days' provisions, minor changes of rai- 
ment, blankets, and a light tent for the night, besides the 
usual camera and sundry other paraphernalia. 

Twenty minutes' walk along the green flat brought 
us to the first snow, and a steep pull up hard snow- 
slopes and a craggy wall of rock, followed by an awkward 
scramble over loose debris, landed us at half-past seven 
on the ice above. The glacier, covered with congealed 
snow and thin moraine, stretched away before us at an 
easy angle, with the great peak towering aloft upon our 
left. As we moved rapidly along I took the opportunity 
to scan with interest and curiosity the peculiar charac- 
teristics of that remarkable face, but the result of my 
observations was locked securely in my breast, and not 
revealed until, on the following afternoon, we stood 
upon the crest above. 

Forty minutes of quick walking took us to the 
summit of the sharp ridge which forms the sky-line to 




Photo, by] iW. D. Wilcox 

THE SOUTH-WEST SIDE OF MT. ASSINIBOINE 



58 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 59 

the west and merges in the main north-western arete. 
Two hundred feet below us lay another glacier, and 
away to our left a second pass, at the base of the great 
western ridge. Dropping down to the ice, we followed 
up the glacier, zigzagging to avoid the large crevasses, 1 
to the narrow little pass, which we reached at nine 
o'clock and found ourselves about 9600 feet above the 
sea and 2400 feet above the camp. 

From this point the lower portion of the unknown 
side of our mountain lay in full view, and, to our joy, we 
saw that the anticipated difficulties were non-existent. 
A comparatively easy traverse, along narrow but ample 
ledges covered with snow and debris, across the ribs and 
stony gullies which seamed the south-western face, would 
bring us, with scarcely any loss of elevation, to the 
south-west ridge, whence the climb proper was expected 
to begin. Each of the gullies seemed to be a much-used 
channel for stones and ice and snow, and was of exces- 
sive steepness, so no inducement was offered to try an 
upward route nearer than the line that Mr. Wilcox took 
in his ascent from the valley. Below the horizontal 
ledge of the proposed traverse the mountain shelved 
steeply down in long expanses of loose stones and snow, 
with not a little ice, into the depths of the contracted 
valley far beneath, containing the inevitable lakelet. 

To counteract, however, this piece of unexpected 
good fortune, the light fleecy clouds, which had been 
hovering over the lower western peaks and growing 
larger and denser every hour, were blotting out the view 

1 Fissures in a glacier. 



60 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and soon enveloped us in their chill embrace. With 
little hope of a successful ascent, we nevertheless made 
our way to the ridge, where we cached 1 our blankets, 
tent, and the bulk of the provisions, and, after a second 
breakfast, continued our upward progress at about half- 
past ten. 

Our circle of vision dwindled from one hundred yards 
to fifty at the most ; a steady drizzle, mingled with sleet, 
began to fall as we climbed cliff and ledge and gully, 
loose rocks and slopes of debris, as each appeared 
through the mists in front of us ; and every few yards 
we built a little pile of stones to guide us in returning. 

At length, at about 10,750 feet altitude, out of the 
gloom a mighty wall, seventy or eighty feet in height, 
loomed before us, its top lost in the clouds. The face 
seemed sheer, and actually overhung in places. None of 
us had ever seen this side of Mt. Assiniboine, excepting 
Peyto, who had left us a short distance below to prospect 
for minerals, and we knew not where the summit lay. 
Of course we went first in the wrong direction. Imag- 
ining that this belt was as unbroken here as on the 
northern face, we sought a cleft up which to clamber and 
skirted the base to the right till we were brought up by 
a tremendous precipice some 6000 feet in depth. We 
had suddenly reached the edge of a gigantic buttress, 
where its converging sides met at an abrupt angle. Be- 
fore us, and on either hand, was empty space, and at our 
feet a seemingly unbroken drop thousands of feet deep. 

Behind rose the sharp edge of rock like polished 

1 Hid. A trappers 1 term. 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 61 

masonry. Below the stony ledge by which we had 
approached, the mountain-side shelved to the south in 
rugged steepness into far-distant gloom ; and as we 
peered with caution round the angle, the farther side 
disclosed a most appalling face of black, forbidding 
precipice, one of the finest and most perpendicular it 
has been my lot to see. 

Here for some moments I stood in solemn awe, 
perched like a statue in a lofty niche, cut in the topmost 
angle of a vast, titanic temple, with space in front, on 
either side, above, below, the yawning depths lost in 
the wreathing mists that wrapped the mountain's 
base. 

• Our progress in this direction barred, we now re- 
traced our steps and spied a little rift by which, in spite 
of a fair overhang for the first twelve or fifteen feet, 
thanks to firm hand and foot holds, we were enabled to 
scramble to the summit of the cliff. Working to the 
left by a steep succession of ledges and clefts, we reached 
a narrow, broken ridge running upward from the west, 
with a sheer drop upon the farther side. We thought 
that we had struck the main western arete (for it is very 
difficult to locate one's self in a dense mist, especially 
upon an unknown mountain which we expected to find 
a regular three-sided cone) and followed its lead, till in 
ten minutes, to our great amazement, we found ourselves 
upon a peak ! Narrow ridges descended to the east and 
west, the steep face of our ascent lay to the south, while 
upon the northern side a mighty precipice fell away vir- 
tually perpendicularly for thousands of feet, broken only 



62 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

by a short buttress, with equally sheer walls and edged 
with jagged pinnacles. 

This " Lost Peak " was to us most mysterious. It 
seemed a genuine summit, narrow and pointed though it 
was, in altitude a trifle over 11,000 feet. Yet where 
upon the mass of Mt. Assiniboine was such a peak ? 
We had imagined that the giant tooth rose more or less 
symmetrically on every side and judged the back ridge 
by the two that we had seen. Hasler at first insisted 
that we were on the veritable summit, but the elevation 
and configuration of our whole environment demolished 
such a theory. We strained our eyes ; but, though the 
breeze kept the thick clouds in constant motion, we 
could not see more than about a hundred yards ahead. 
We shouted in this direction and in that ; but our voices 
died away into space until at last held by some loftier 
mass, which echoed back an answer from the direction 
whence we had just come ! Then we knew that we were 
standing upon the south-eastern ridge, which must be 
longer and less steep, at any rate in its upper portion, 
than any of the others, and possess a distinct minor peak, 
separated from the main summit by a considerable break. 

Such proved to be the case. After an hour spent in 
the cold and wet, striving to pierce the clouds, hoping 
some stronger current of wind might waft them off, and 
thus enable us to see the top and give us some idea of 
its character and how we might approach it, we built a 
" stone man " to commemorate our visit, and, at half-past 
one, returned along the west arete until a chasm yawned 
beneath our feet — how deep we could not tell (it proved 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 63 

about 200 feet) — and forced us to descend by our cliff 
route and down the crack to the base of the big wall. 
A few minutes' going in the opposite direction brought 
us to a broad snow couloir} where the cliff receded and 
trended upward to the gap into which we had been gaz- 
ing from above not long before, and away upon our left 
stretched the steep face of the great peak itself. 

It was now too late to think of climbing farther, so 
we descended rapidly and rejoined Peyto near the cache. 
Here, during a meal, we held a council of war, and came 
to the unanimous determination to shoulder our packs 
and return to camp ; feeling that, if the morrow were 
wet, we should be better off there, and if fine, it would 
take but little longer to come round in light marching 
order from the north than to make the ascent thus far 
with heavy packs from the tree-line. In spite of a very 
speedy return, night fell upon us before we had quite 
descended the cliff wall below the northern glacier, and 
we stumbled into camp in black darkness about a quar- 
ter-past eight. 

The clouds had begun to dissipate towards sunset: 
later on the moon rose in a clear, star-spangled sky ; and 
the chill of frost augured favourably for our second 
campaign. 

September 3rd, a notable date for us and Mt. Assini- 
boine, dawned brilliantly. At ten minutes past six our 
little party of three set out from camp in the best of 
spirits, encouraged by the hearty good wishes of the 
packers, and made rapid progress by the route of 

1 Gully. 



64 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the previous day. In two and a half hours we were on the 
second pass, enjoying this time a wide view to the south 
and the north-west of an expanse of indented mountain 
ranges and deep yawning valleys, with a little lake far 
below in every gorge. A brief halt here, and then on to 
the south-western ridge, reaching the cache three and a 
quarter hours from the start. Upward, past the coloured 
belt, to our great cliff of yesterday. There, at half-past 
ten, we turned off to the left and crossed the couloir, full 
of deep snow upon an icy basis. 

Beyond it lay the final thousand feet of the great 
mountain, its steep and rugged face a series of escarp- 
ments broken by tiny ledges and occasional sharp pin- 
nacles, and rent at distant intervals by clefts and crevices 
nearly vertical. Slopes of solid ice or ice-hard snow, 
demanding arduous step-cutting, intervened below each 
wall and ledge and filled each cavity. The rocks were 
very brittle and extremely insecure, and to the ordinary 
difficulties there was added that abomination of the 
mountaineer, verglas, the thin coating of ice upon the 
rocks from the night's frost after the rain and sleet of 
yesterday. 

The general line was diagonally across the face, but 
frequent minor consultations were required, the problems 
of immediate procedure being numerous. 

Steadily onward the little party made its cautious 
way across these difficult approaches : ever on the alert, 
hand and foot alike pressed into service ; each hold fully 
tested before the weight was trusted to it. A slippery 
ledge demanded an ignominious crawl ; a series of gym- 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 65 

nastic efforts were required to surmount some of the 
straight-up rocks and buttresses, where holds were few 
and far between. Detours were frequent to avoid im- 
possible conditions ; all sorts of cracks and crevices had 
to be utilized ; and icy rifts were sometimes the only 
avenues of access to the tops of smooth, unbroken cliffs. 

Thus step by step the advance continued, till, after a 
final scramble up a gully lined with solid ice and almost 
as steep and narrow as a chimney, we stood triumphantly 
upon the south arete, the summit in full view not more 
than 300 feet above, reached by an easy ridge of snow, 
and Mt. Assiniboine we knew was ours. 

The strangest feature of the ascent lay in the fact 
that now for the first time we saw the actual summit, as 
the cliffs rose so steeply during our approach that we 
could never see more than a short distance beyond us. 

White, vaporous clouds had been slowly drifting up 
for the last hour, and, fearing a repetition of the previous 
day's experience and the loss of the view, we hurried to 
the top, pausing only for a few moments to enjoy the 
panorama, to renew our acquaintance with our " Lost 
Peak," now 500 feet below us, and to take a picture 
through the mist of the white summit, with its splendid 
eastern precipice. 

A quarter of an hour sufficed to complete our victory, 
and at half-past twelve we stood as conquerors 11,860 
feet above the sea (Government survey altitude from 
distant bases), on the loftiest spot in Canada on which 
a human foot had then been planted. 

The summit is a double one, crowned with ice and 



66 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

snow, the two points rising from the extremities of an 
almost level and very narrow ridge 150 feet in length, at 
the apex of the sharp aretes from north and south. On 
the western side snow-slopes tilted downward at a very 
acute angle, while on the east a stupendous precipice 
was overhung by a magnificent succession of enormous 
cornices 1 from which a fringe of massive icicles de- 
pended. 

One at a time — the other two securely anchored — 
we crawled with the utmost caution to the actual highest 
point, and peeped over the edge of the huge, overhang- 
ing crest, down the sheer wall to a great, shining glacier 
6000 feet or more below. 

The view on all sides was remarkable, although the 
atmosphere was somewhat hazy and unsuitable for pan- 
oramic photography. Perched high upon our isolated 
pinnacle, fully 1500 feet above the loftiest peak for 
many miles around, below us lay unfolded range after 
range of brown-gray mountains, patched with snow and 
sometimes glacier-hung, intersected by deep chasms or 
broader wooded valleys. A dozen lakes were counted, 
nestling between the outlying ridges of our peak, which 
proudly stands upon the backbone of the Continent, and 
supplies the head-waters of three rivers, — the Cross, the 
Simpson, and the Spray. 

Far away to the north-west, beyond Mt. Ball and the 
Vermilion Range, we could descry many an old friend 
among the mountains of the railway belt, — Mt. Goodsir 
and the Ottertails, Mt. Stephen and Mt. Temple, with the 

1 Overhanging shelves of snow. 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 



67 



giants of the Divide, Mts. Victoria, Lefroy, Hungabee, 
and a host of others, a noble group of striking points 
and glistening glaciers. 




SUMMIT OF MT. ASSINIBOINE 



The main ridge northward, after a sharp descent of 
fifty feet, falls gently for a hundred yards or so, and then 
makes a wild pitch down to the glaciers at the moun- 
tain's base. When we arrived at this point (only 
through my most strenuous insistence, for the guides 
were anxious to return at once by the way we came), we 



68 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

looked down on the imposing face that is perhaps 
Assiniboine's most characteristic feature. 

On the right the drop is perpendicular, a mighty 
wall with frequent overhanging strata and a pure snow 
curtain hanging vertically beneath the crowning cornice. 
But the north face, though not so sheer or awesome, is 
perhaps still more striking and unique. The shining 
steeps of purest ice, the encircling belts of time-eroded 
cliffs, sweep downward with tremendous majesty. Be- 
tween the two a ragged ridge is formed, narrow and 
broken, like a series of roughly fractured wall-ends. 

As we gazed, the scheme that had been simmering 
in my brain since I looked upward to these heights the 
previous morning, seemed more than ever practicable 
and at last found utterance : " Could we not manage to 
get down this way ? " and the hope of crowning the tri- 
umph by a traverse of the mountain, conquering its re- 
puted inaccessible ramparts (and that, too, in a descent), 
together with the prospect of an absolutely first-class 
climb, decided the reply in the affirmative. True, at 
least three great bands of rock lay there below us, any 
one of which might prove an insurmountable obstacle and 
necessitate a retracing of our footsteps, with the probable 
consequence of a night out, at a considerable altitude, 
among the icy fastnesses ; but we had found some crack 
or cranny heretofore in their courses on the farther side, 
and — well, we would try to find an equally convenient 
right of way on this face, too. 

So, after a halt of nearly two hours, at 1.40 we em- 
barked upon our final essay. 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 69 

Well roped and moving generally one at a time, we 
clambered downward foot by foot, now balancing upon 
the narrow ridge, 5000 feet of space at our right hand ; 
then scrambling down a broken wall-end, the rocks so 
friable that hand-hold after hand-hold had to be aban- 
doned, and often half a dozen tested before a safe one 
could be found ; now, when the ridge became too jagged 
or too sheer, making our cautious way along a tiny ledge 
or down the face itself, clinging to the cold buttresses, 
our fingers tightly clutching the scant projection of some 
icy knob, or digging into small interstices between the 
rocks ; anon, an ice-slope had to be negotiated with labo- 
rious cutting of steps in the hard wall-like surface ; and 
again, cliff after cliff must be reconnoitred, its slippery 
upper rim traversed until a cleft was found and a gym- 
nastic descent effected to the ice-bound declivity that fell 
away beneath its base. 

For close upon 2000 feet the utmost skill and care 
were imperative at every step ; for scarcely half a dozen 
could be taken in that distance where an unroped man 
who slipped would not inevitably have followed the re- 
jected hand-holds and debris, that hurtled down in leaps 
and bounds to crash in fragments on the rocks and 
boulders far below. 

But with a rope a careful party of experienced moun- 
taineers is absolutely free from danger; and, though it 
took our usually rapid trio three and a half hours to 
descend some 1800 feet, our confidence was fully vin- 
dicated, for nothing insurmountable obstructed our ad- 
vance, and, after a brief halt below the last cliff wall 



70 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

(where sundry relics of the Walling expedition were 
observed), a gay descent, on snow that needed no step- 
cutting, brought us soon after six o'clock to easier, con- 
tinuous rocks, where we unroped. 

A speedy spell swinging down rocks, with an oc- 
casional glissade, landed us on the glacier in forty 
minutes, and an hour later, in the gathering darkness, 
we approached the camp, after an absence of thirteen 
hours and a half, greeted by shouts of welcome and con- 
gratulation from Peyto and Sinclair (who had seen us 
on the summit) and strains of martial music from the 
latter's violin. 

Before turning in, we took a last look at the splendid 
obelisk above us, radiant in the moonlight against the 
dark star-strewn canopy of heaven. A last look it 
proved ; for next morning we awoke to a white world, 
with nothing visible of Mt. Assiniboine but an oc- 
casional glimpse, through sweeping, leaden clouds, of its 
steep flanks deeply covered with the freshly fallen snow. 

The return journey was begun at one o'clock that 
afternoon, and Desolation Valley was traversed in the 
snow and rain, our chill encampment being made in the 
flat pasture at the head of Simpson Valley. 

Next day we made a most tremendous march in the 
teeth of a driving snow-storm. The valley, with its 
gaunt, spectral tree-trunks, was drearier and more weird 
than ever; the blackened timber, outlined against the 
dazzling snow, showed in a mazy network ; the bushes, 
with their load of fruit, peeped out forlornly amid their 
wintry environment, and every flower bore a tiny burden 



MOUNT ASSINIBOINE 7 i 

on its drooping head. The steep ascent of 1500 feet 
was made in ever deepening snow, and on the alp above 
we met the fierce blasts of the keen north wind, sweep- 
ing across the unprotected uplands. Wearied with our 
forced marches and two long days of arduous climbing, 
the tramping through soft, drifting snow, the steady 
upward trend of our advance and the hard conflict with 
the driving storm, it was with deep relief that we 
crossed the final ridge and could descend to calmer 
regions through the dark, snow-laden pines. Still on 
we went, down Healy Creek to the Bow Valley, where 
the packers camped with their tired horses, and the 
guides and I tramped on two hours more to Banff, 
arriving there just five days and five hours from the 
time of our departure. 

Our toils were over. In spite of adverse weather 
conditions, the expedition had been intensely interesting 
from start to finish, and more than a success from a 
climber's point of view; and the fact that the ascent 
was made upon the last possible day the weather would 
permit that season gave a. dramatic touch that added an 
extra spice of satisfaction to the accomplishment of a 
mountaineering feat, perhaps the most sensational then 
achieved in North America. 

Note. — In July, 1903, another Scotsman, Mr. W. Douglas, of Edin- 
burgh, with Christian Hasler and Christian Kaufmann, made the second 
ascent, this time by the north face, along the line of our descent, returning 
by the same route. Considerable quantities of snow, in excellent condition, 
facilitated climbing immensely where glare ice had called for strenuous step- 
cutting on the first occasion, and no special difficulties were encountered. 



CHAPTER IV 

LAKE LOUISE 

" I have travelled in almost every country under 
heaven, yet I have never seen so perfect a picture in 
the vast gallery of Nature's masterpieces as you have 
brought me to this afternoon." Such was the final 
verdict of a close observer of nature and enthusiastic 
lover of the picturesque, as we emerged from the shelter 
of the forest pathway, where the glistening waters of 
peerless Lake Louise suddenly burst upon the view, 
and we stood fascinated by the enchanting scene. 

As a gem of composition and of colouring it is 
perhaps unrivalled anywhere. To those who have not 
seen it words must fail to conjure up the glories of that 

" Haunted Lake, among the pine-clad mountains, 
Forever smiling upward to the skies." 

A master's hand indeed has painted all its beauties ; the 
turquoise surface, quivering with fleeting ripples, beyond 
the flower-strewn sweep of grassy shore ; the darkening 
mass of tapering spruce and pine trees, mantling heavily 
the swiftly rising slopes, that culminate in rugged steeps 
and beetling precipices, soaring aloft into the sun-kissed 
air on either side ; and there, beyond the painted portals 
of the narrowing valley, rich with the hues of royal purple 

72 




73 



LAKE LOUISE 



75 



and of sunset reds, the enraptured gaze is lifted to a 
climax of superb effects, as the black walls of Mt. 
Lefroy, surmounted by their dazzling canopy of hang- 
ing glaciers, and the wide gable-sweep of Mt. Victoria, 
resplendent with its spotless covering of eternal snow, 
crown the matchless scene. The azure dome of heaven, 
flecked with bright, fleecy clouds like angels' wings, 
completes the picture, which not only charms the eye 
but lifts the soul to closer contact with the Divine 
Creator, Whose eternal love has given us these won- 
drous beauties to enjoy. 

At every season, every hour, it is wonderful. Whether 
in winter, ice-bound and snow-beset, sparkling in all 
the brilliancy of countless myriads of diamond rays, or, 
suddenly bereft of sunshine, a weird expanse of mystic 
white, whose still death-pallor strikes to the heart with 
solemn awe. Or in the springtime, when the bright 
glints of emerald leaves and buds illuminate the scene 
with fresh-won life ; or, under the spell of autumn's 
magic touch, when changing hues of crimson and of 
gold, with an attendant train of countless interwoven 
tints scarcely less regal in their richness, mingle with 
the sombre evergreens, and the peaceful lakelet flashes 
back the glory of their radiance. 

It may be in the early dawning, with the long 
shadows sweeping across the slumbering waters, and the 
ruddy gleam of bright Aurora flaming full upon the 
snowy crests of the far peaks ; or, later, under the noon- 
tide brilliance, when every pinnacle and fissure of the 
uplifted crags and every bough and feathery tip of fir 



76 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

stands out in clearest detail, emphasized by the marvel- 
lous effects of light and shade ; or, later still, when twi- 
light steals upon us, draping the foreground and the 
middle distance in soft, tenuous mystery, while the snow 
summits blush beneath the roseate embrace of the de- 
parting day, and the ethereal skies whisper of God and 
heaven : then the glow fades, the stars shine forth, first 
one by one, then in advancing squadrons, till their hosts, 
in the pure atmosphere, blaze forth from the dark vault 
with an unearthly splendour that gives new character to 
lake and cliff, mountain and glacier. 

By night or day, in storm or sunshine, peaceful or 
tempest-tost, in smiling innocence or swaying with 
fiercest passion and the forces of omnipotence let loose, 
the lake enthralls with a spell that is irresistible; and 
above God reigns supreme. His "everlasting hills" 
attest His might, His hand gives life and colouring to 
leaf and rock and flower, and we, to whom He gives it 
richly to enjoy, dare not lift up our eyes upon His world 
and yet withhold our wonder, our worship, and our love. 

" O, watched by silence and the night, 

And folded in the strong embrace 
Of the great mountains, with the light 

Of the sweet heavens upon thy face — 
Lake of the Northland ! keep thy dower 

Of beauty still, and, while above 
Thy silent mountains speak of power, 

Be thou the mirror of God's love." 

This delightful resort, three miles from the railroad, 
was one of the earliest discovered of the many beauty 



LAKE LOUISE 77 

spots along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, 
whose names are household words amongst lovers of the 
picturesque. The lake was named for the Princess 
Louise, wife of the Governor-General of Canada at that 
date, the Marquess of Lome. 

In the eighties a small log cabin served as an inn for 
the few travellers who turned aside at Laggan to visit the 
lake and its surrounding scenery. In 1891 Mr. S. E. S. 
Allen spent a few days there and returned in 1893 w ^ n 
Mr. W. D. Wilcox, of Washington, for a brief sojourn. 
The following summer both were lured back again, and 
the party was increased by the advent of Messrs. Y. 
Henderson and L. Frissell. They thoroughly explored 
the neighbourhood. Mt. Temple and Mt. Aberdeen, 
with sundry minor peaks, were climbed, and the accounts 
of these expeditions, published by Mr. Wilcox in his 
book, and by Mr. Allen in the Alpine Journal, did much 
to bring the district into early prominence. 

Continuing our journey from our first halting-place 
at Banff, the train traverses the green valley of the Bow, 
ascending steadily beside the swiftly flowing stream. 
Swinging round the end of the serrated Sawback Range, 
we enter a long stretch that runs at right angles to our 
recent course and parallels the watershed for seventy 
miles to the most distant source of the Bow River at 
Bow Pass. The railroad follows this for half the dis- 
tance before turning again at a right angle to cross the 
Great Divide 

At the first bend Healy Creek comes in from the 
south and points the way to Mt. Assiniboine. Farther 



78 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

on, beyond the ramparts of Mt. Massive and Storm 
Peak, the low, forest-clad Vermilion Pass opens to the 
left. Meanwhile two dominating mountains have been 
looming ever larger and more imposing as we speed 
along. First, on the right, the towering battlements of 
Castle Mountain, like a gigantic mediaeval fortress, a 
vast mass of rocky walls and turrets. Then, beyond it 
on the other side, great helmet-shaped Mt. Temple rears 
its lofty brow, crowned with a diadem of glacier, — the 
highest summit seen from the railroad track, and nearly 
7000 feet above it. 1 

To the left of the precipices of this splendid peak, 
utterly inaccessible from any point within our range of 
vision, lies the weirdly attractive Valley of the Ten Peaks, 
beyond the forest slopes that flank the stream locked in 
their adamant embrace, the pyramid of Deltaform con- 
spicuous amongst the jagged summits. Sweeping round 
Mt. Temple's base, just as Mt. Lefroy and Mt. Victoria 
in icy splendour come to view, the train stops and we 
find ourselves at Laggan, the station for the " Lakes in 
the Clouds." 

A walk or ride of three and a half miles leads -to the 
comfortable hotel on the shores of Lake Louise. By all 
means walk if you can manage it. There is an upward 

1 According to the D. L. S. figures, giving 11,637 feet to Mt. Temple, and 
1 1,600 to Mt. Goodsir. The latter figure corresponds with our party's esti- 
mate of the altitude of Mt. Goodsir, when we ascended within 150 feet of the 
summit; but Professors Fay and Parker, who climbed to the top in 1903, 
have claimed an elevation for that peak of nearly 12,000 feet, though the 
former in a very recent article (February, 1905) puts the height at 11,671 
feet. 



LAKE LOUISE 



79 



tilt about the road as it mounts 600 feet to reach the 
lake, but there are so many excellent excuses to rest 
upon the way and to enjoy the exquisite peeps and 
vistas, as we stroll along the forest track, that the end 
comes all too soon. The dancing waters of the tum- 
bling rivulet are chattering amongst the boulders as they 
go " to join the brimming river " ; high peaks are reared 
into the heavens above the feathered pines and spruces, 
draped with " old man's beard," that close us in ; whilst 
the luxuriant undergrowth and countless flowers fill the 
tale of brilliancy and beauty. 

Ere long a glimpse of gleaming silver strikes athwart 
the trees, the lofty crest of Mt. Victoria appears beyond, 
we- turn a corner, and the peerless panorama bursts with 
startling suddenness upon our gaze. 

The old-time " Chalet," with its dozen guests when 
fully crowded, is now no longer recognizable in the en- 
larged and well-equipped hotel that can provide accom- 
modation for above a hundred. But the most cherished 
memories linger around the little building, with its one 
public room, looking out upon the lake and made so 
cozy in the cool evenings by the blaze of four-foot logs 
on the gigantic hearth. 

In the sultry haze of summer heat, and in the deep 
snows of winter's mantle, it is alike good to wander by 
the lake shore, climb the steep woodland paths to little 
Mirror Lake (900 feet above), a lustrous circle of un- 
ruffled sheen, to lofty Agnes Lake (6820 feet above the 
sea), cliff-girt and overhung with towering pinnacles ; or 
higher still to the quaint Beehive, than which no spot 



So IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

was ever more aptly named, or Mt. St. Piran, with the 
most glorious view of all. 

Across the ridge the Cataract Valley can be reached 
by rugged climbing, and mountain goats still give the 
hunter opportunity for plenty of arduous exercise and, 
possibly, a far-off shot or two. 

On the opposing shore Mt. Fairview affords a rival 
panorama, with Mt. Temple's massive wall and little 
hanging glacier rising 6000 feet above the deep-cut 
trench of Paradise Valley, which gleams bright and ver- 
dant at the base of grim Mt. Sheol, a quaint juxtaposition 
of nomenclature. As we roam among the rocky heights, 
the whistle of the marmot frequently breaks in upon the 
otherwise insistent silence characteristic of the region. 
Often, when alone, I have been almost startled by its 
human tone and turned involuntarily to see who could 
be sharing the quietude I thought mine alone. Some- 
times they are seen perched on a big boulder or a pile 
of rocks, and even permit, at times, prolonged and 
close observation, and, on a rare occasion, photographic 
portraiture. Fine, fat fellows usually, with handsome 
gray fur coats and abundant tails, and, if one could 
so far steel his heart as to deprive them of their right 
to live, their pelts would make up into splendid 
rugs. 

Two peaks stand out above all others here at Lake 
Louise to lure the mountaineer: the one, Mt. Victoria, 
the other, Mt. Lefroy. The latter, conquered first by 
two days' interval, demands a chapter to itself, since to 
it pertains the melancholy notoriety of being the one 



LAKE LOUISE 81 

mountain in the Canadian Rockies that has a fatal acci- 
dent connected with its alpine history. 

The scaling of Mt. Victoria was undertaken on the 
3d of August, 1897 (most appropriately the year of 
Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee), by Professor J. N. 
Collie, Professor C. E. Fay (men who have in different 
ways done more than any others to investigate and pop- 
ularize the glories of the Rockies as an ideal haunt for 
mountaineering, one in England, the other in America),. 
Professor A. Michael, of Boston, and the Swiss guide, 
Peter Sarbach, from St. Niklaus. At 3.45 they stole out 
into the darkness from the comfortable Chalet, and em- 
barked upon the lake to row to the upper end. Thence 
to the glacier, which was ascended to Abbot Pass in four 
hours from the start. 

With Professor Collie in the lead the bold wall to 
the north of the pass was soon surmounted, and proved 
by no means so formidable as it looked, its rottenness 
being its main difficulty. Then, after a second breakfast, 
the rocks gave place to snow in the ascent, and the story 
must be told from the narrative of Professor Fay. 1 

" The sky-line of Mt. Victoria as seen from the lower 
end of Lake Louise gives the impression of a very grad- 
ually ascending snowy ridge. A more careful study,, 
however, brings out two features which break this repose- 
ful monotony: the first, a sag not far to the right of 
where the profile of our mountain vanishes behind the 
icy helmet of Lefroy ; the other, an inconspicuous stretch 
of rock wall about midway between this depression and 

1 " The First Ascent of Mt. Victoria," Appalachian Vol. IX, p. 5. 



82 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the main summit, where for a space its dusky hue inter- 
rupts the white at the meeting of mountain and sky. 
In reality this sag separates from the principal mass of 
Victoria a portion almost individual enough to have a 
name of its own. It was upon the southern end of this 




Photo. By] 



LAKE LOUISE AND MT. VICTORIA 



[A. H. Cowan. 



portion that we were pausing for our luncheon. . . . We 
were about to pass over the dome of snow to the left of 
the sag and as we supposed directly upon the sky-line. 
To our surprise, as we approached its summit, we found 
an entirely different situation from what was anticipated. 
The true crest of this mass is a palisade of rock lying a 



LAKE LOUISE 83 

little back of the visible snowy one. This latter sweeps 
gently over to its base. 

" It was while passing along under this wall that there 
was prepared for us the most dramatic surprise that I 
ever experienced on a mountain. Without a moment's 
warning we found ourselves opposite a breach perhaps 
fifty feet in width straight through this Titan wall, and 
our vision, as if suddenly released from bonds, leaped 
forth into the west over range after range to rest at last 
upon the grand triple pyramid of Goodsir. Its imposing 
mass was perfectly framed between the vertical sides of 
the breach. Four distinct ranges lay between us and it; 
and what a tremendous gulf between ourselves and the 
first of these ! The snow on which we were standing 
swept downward at an angle of forty-five degrees, ending 
in a clear-cut line at the outer face of the palisade. 
Beyond it lay a depth of air ; and then, a half mile away, 
the dark wall of Mt. Yukness. . . . Never, not even 
on Mt. Hector, did I experience such an impression of 
profundity. 

" Passing on we reached the point from which the 
descent is made into the sag. . . . From here the sub- 
ordinate peak called Mt. Huber is in full view. ... But 
still more did the peak of Victoria itself challenge our 
attention. Our way to it was now revealed to us ; but 
how different from the easy grade we had been led to 
expect ! How little like ' a wall of uniform height ' ! It 
towered a graceful pyramidal spire before us. Our line 
of sight being parallel to the axis of the mountain, we 
saw in profile the snowy slope that faces Lake Louise. 



84 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

It swept rapidly" up from the top of the cliffs at an 
angle of forty to sixty degrees, steepening yet more as 
it approached the clearly defined pinnacle. ' Hot plates ' 
broke its surface at frequent intervals, with suggestions 
of imminent avalanches, which will always defend any 
approach to its icy citadel from this side. . . . 

" The climb of the long arete soon depleted any stock 
of exuberance the lively descent [to the bottom of the 
sag] had developed. At every step we sank to the 
knee, at many a one much deeper. Gratitude to Collie 
for the pioneer work he was putting in at the head of the 
line mingled with admiration for his endurance as we 
4 entered into his labors.' It was with a decided sense of 
relief that we at last reached the base of the parapet and 
found what we had hoped, a point where it could be 
scaled. Its crest proved to be exceedingly narrow, in 
places not over a foot wide, and rapidly weathering; 
nevertheless, it offered a line of rapid advance — the 
sooner, therefore, to come to an end and compel us 
once more to take to the snow. We were now (about 
eleven o'clock) at the base of the final peak. From here 
to the summit we were to move — as indeed we had 
been doing much of the time hitherto — along the very 
ridgepole of the North American continent. . . . Stride 
on, O Collie, we are right after you. . . . 

" At last ! But why does he not stop ? Now that 
our eyes get level with where his thighs wallow out of 
the snow, we see we were too sanguine ; the highest 
summit is that hillock, still beyond. One final push, 
and at 1 1.45 'the great white peak' is conquered. 



LAKE LOUISE 85 

"The summit [11,400 feet above the sea-level] is 
an ideal one. Discounting the cornice crowning over 
towards the lake, there was hardly more than comfortable 
room for our party. Unlike that of Lefroy, no rock 
pierced the virgin whiteness. To the north it fell away 
suddenly into a deep depression filled with gendarmes, 
separating it from a bastion, from which it seems hardly 
probable it will ever be approached. Immediately to the 
west a snow arete falls away less rapidly, rising again 
almost to our level in the most pointed snow peak I have 
ever seen. The sides meet in the perfect apex of an 
angle of less than eighty degrees. It seemed as if its 
point would prick the palm that should be laid upon it." 
' The descent was easy and rapid without any episode 
requiring record, and the Chalet was regained at half -past 
five o'clock. 

My own first introduction to Canadian alpine climb- 
ing was also on this mountain, a day in August, 1900, 
witnessing an interesting scramble to the summit of the 
northern peak. The Swiss guide stationed at the Chalet, 
not knowing our qualifications as mountaineers, de- 
manded a second guide to convoy our party of three 
(Mr. J. H. Scattergood, of Philadelphia, my brother and 
myself) up this simple peak; but the addition proved 
to be a great hindrance and a source of weakness, 
almost amounting to danger, to the party. 

The chef got up to give us a recherche breakfast at 
the early hour of 3 a.m. We pulled across the lake 
under the starlit skies, the ghostly pallid summits 
beckoning us onward through the night. Soon we were 



86 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

far up on the stony flank of Mt. Whyte and entering 
upon the traverse of the upper glacier, that streams from 
Mt. Victoria's long ridge. Turning north, we then 
climbed, ladder-like, a steep snow-curtain, 700 to 800 
feet in height, and landed on the razor edge that 
joins Pope's Peak to Mt. Victoria, a grand series of 
precipices marking the farther side. Along this ridge, 
heavily corniced upon the side of our approach, we now 
proceeded, a bitter wind blowing most violently, whilst 
the clouds scurried low along the faces of the mountains 
all around. Cautioning Zurfluh to be particularly mind- 
ful of the cornice, and give it a wide berth, for I have 
a special antipathy to these dread traps for the unwary 
climber, I followed in his and my brother's footsteps 
with a confidence which received a rude and sudden 
shock when, in an instant, I felt my previously solid 
resting-place quiver, totter, disappear, and I shot down- 
ward into space surrounded by a whirling mass of snow 
and ice. 

For the benefit of the curious, who may wish, like 
sundry others, to know my first sensations, I can only 
tell the grim, prosaic fact that the sole thought that 
occupied my mind was, that I should have to climb 
the whole of that long, weary staircase of 800 feet 
of snow all over again ! I had forgotten all about the 
rope that bound us all together, but in a fraction of a 
second it brought its very real and tangible presence 
to my memory by a stupendous jerk as it tightened 
round my devoted waist, and there I hung, dancing on 
air, somewhat uncomfortable about the centre, but in 



LAKE LOUISE 87 

perfect safety. The rope, which had been kept quite taut 
between us, cut into the soft snow and scarcely caused 
the slightest drag upon my two companions, and they 
held me without an effort. Calling to them to hold 
steady, with a few strokes of my ice-axe I cut a step in 
the ice-wall to stand upon, and two or three more 
quickly brought me to the top again. 

The experience is one of real interest, though hardly 
sufficiently so to make one yearn for an encore, even 
under similar conditions of a safe issue, for which there 
was great cause for thankfulness ; though it cannot be 
too strongly urged that, when the proper precautions are 
taken — being tied together, keeping right distance and 
a taut rope, with incessant watchfulness — there is little, 
if any, danger of a catastrophe, even should one of the 
party fall. In the case under notice, also, it should be 
added that there would have been no accident at all 
had the guide taken ordinary precautions to ascertain 
the width of the projecting cornice or to give it a 
reasonably wide berth. 

It did not take us long thereafter to gain the snowy 
apex of the north peak, where, in a piercing wind, we 
obtained fleeting but glorious glimpses of as fine an 
alpine panorama as one could wish to see. The strik- 
ing feature was the abruptness of the precipice of Mt. 
Victoria and the marvellous ridge connecting our peak 
with the highest point, referred to by Professor Fay as 
" filled with gendarmes." It is as worthy of the term 
" knife-edge " as any in existence, but the knife has been 
sadly maltreated, like one used as a can-opener or for 



88 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

some similar strenuous and unwonted purpose. It is 
serrated along its entire length by jagged pinnacles and 
towers, standing up in many instances for scores of feet 
from the narrow joining ridges, and in places overhang- 
ing one or other of the vast sheer walls that culminate 
in this appalling toothed arete. 

Later I planned to try a climb along this route to 
the chief summit, which would in all likelihood provide 
as high a test of mountaineering skill as any in the 
world, but weather foiled the scheme and the ridge still 
awaits a conqueror. 

The minor peaks around have all been scaled, — the 
principal, Mt. Aberdeen, by Messrs. Allen, Frissell and 
Wilcox in 1894, by an easy route; and the most difficult, 
without doubt, by Mr. Edward Whymper's quartette of 
famous guides in 1901. This is "The Mitre," a ragged 
rock-pile on the ridge between Mt. Aberdeen and Mt. 
Lefroy, which proved a first-class little bit of rock-work. 

Mr. Whymper camped for several weeks that year at 
various altitudes, doing very thorough work in his char- 
acteristically energetic and patient way, exploring in all 
directions and making valuable observations in almost 
every branch of scientific research. 

The two famous peaks are, even with guides, beyond 
the powers or inclination of the multitude, yet many are 
attracted by the magnet of the glaciers, especially those 
to whom their power is new; and Lake Louise adds to 
its unique scenic charms the enjoyable feature of giving 
the opportunity for one of the most striking and pictu- 
resque lower alpine expeditions imaginable. This is the 



LAKE LOUISE 89 

crossing of Abbot Pass to Lake O'Hara and the Cata- 
ract Valley, which is absolutely unapproached in interest, 
variety, and charm on the Continent of North America, 
and yet it is within the capacity of the ordinary walker. 

Abbot Pass is a narrow V-shaped notch, cut deep 
between the lofty walls of Mt. Lefroy and Mt. Victoria, 
upon the Great Divide. It is a glacial pass, whose 
romantic and secluded summit, hemmed in between 
mighty precipices from which avalanches thunder with 
constantly reverberating roar, has an outlook to nought 
but naked peak and precipice, snowy steeps and cataracts 
of ice, wild pinnacles tossed to the sky from the dead 
world of rock and glacier, without a sign of life and 
scarcely even a stunted shrub or blade of scanty grass 
within the range of vision. It is a picture of weird 
wonder and desolate majesty, almost incomparable and 
boundlessly impressive in its might and its eternal sug- 
gestiveness. 

This silent arctic passage links the bright environ- 
ment of Lake Louise, on the Atlantic side, to the deli- 
cious valley where Cataract Creek, taking its rise in 
glacial heights, threads its torrential way down the steep, 
rugged slopes from frozen Lake Oesa, with brief resting- 
places as it merges with the still waters of sundry 
mountain tarns, to Lake O'Hara, fairest of mountain 
lakelet gems, and thence to join the Kicking Horse, or 
Wapta, River, forming the longest branch of that wild 
tributary of the great Columbia. 

Abbot Pass takes its name from the distinguished 
climber, Philip Stanley Abbot, a Boston man, the first 



9 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and only victim of a mountaineering accident in Canada, 
who met his death upon the steeps of Mt. Lefroy in 
1896, just above the little coL The pass was first 
reached by Mr. S. E. S. Allen, in 1894, from the O'Hara 
side, and subsequently, in 1896, from Lake Louise by 
the party which made the memorable first attempt on 
Mt. Lefroy, thus demonstrating its feasibility as a route 
across the watershed; but it remained uncrossed till 
Mr. R. F. Curtis and Professor Fay made the trip in 
1898, and no one followed till, three years later, the lat- 
ter repeated the expedition in company with Mr. J. H. 
Scattergood, Christian Hasler and myself, on July 23d. 

We were on our way to try the ascent of Mt. Biddle 
and chose this as the shortest, most scenic, and most 
sporting route. The trip was unique by reason of our 
being accompanied by a spaniel, belonging to the chef 
at Field, and " Nellie " proved herself a splendid alpinist, 
negotiating the difficulties of ice and snow, rock and 
scree, in first-rate style, and winning fame as the first of her 
sex and of her species to cross a glacier pass in Canada. 

The customary, but ever fresh and delightful, pas- 
sage of the lake in the early dawn led to the short 
tramp through dew-saturated grass and bushes to the 
Victoria Glacier. Scrambling over the rough moraine to 
the dedrzs-covered ice, we made rapid progress along its 
dry surface towards the mighty walls of the encircling 
peaks which rose with snowy mantles and huge cornices 
in stupendous grandeur straight from the floor of ice. 
A striking specimen of a glacier table was met with, an 
enormous boulder, fully six feet high and about thirty in 



LAKE LOUISE 



9r 



circumference, being balanced on a delicate ice-pedestal 
and surrounded by a circular basin hollowed in the 
glacier by the heat refracted from the sun-smitten rock. 
With some difficulty Hasler and I succeeded in clamber- 
ing up the smooth, worn side, and, hoisting Nellie up, we 
posed for portraiture upon this singular monument. 




Photo. by~] 



A GLACIER TABLE 



[t*. B. bay 



Rounding the cliffs of Mt. Lefroy, the steep snow- 
covered way to Abbot Pass looms right ahead, the close- 
contracting walls of the two giant mountains climbing 
sheer above, overhung by the edges of the ever moving 
glacier masses that clothe their steep-pitched roofs clear 
to the narrow ridge that forms the roof-tree of the Con- 
tinent. These glaciers are fully 200 feet in thickness at 
the point where they break off and avalanche from the 
summit of the vertical cliffs, and during the summer 
season many hundreds of tons of solid ice are daily 
hurled from their giddy eminence and shattered on the 
glacier below. The frequency of these falls and the 



92 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

extreme narrowness of the chasm caused its earliest vis- 
itors to shun the hemmed-in passage-way, which they 
named suggestively " The Death-trap." Mr. Abbot, with 
greater perception and alpine experience, scouted the title 
and persuaded his companions to make the first passage, 
which has since been followed not infrequently : with rea- 
sonable care and common sense danger is wholly absent, 
and the early designation has happily become extinct. 

Grand it is and wild and weird, as we thread our way 
amongst the numerous crevasses that cross our glisten- 
ing white pathway, which lies deep-cut between the 
towering, close-pressing precipices. Onward and up- 
ward till in four easy hours from the Chalet we gained 
the narrow summit of the notch, about 9800 feet above 
the sea and 4000 higher than our starting-point. Almost 
overwhelming in its sublimity and suddenness was, to 
quote Professor Fay, 1 "the wonderful prospect that 
opened so magically — the sudden plunge of the western 
gorge, snowless in its upper half, its sloping sides and 
narrow bottom lined with scree from the heights above ; 
the sea-green lakelets at its foot, three thousand feet be- 
low us ; the pinnacle of Mt. Biddle leaping up like a 
petrified flame and pricking the clouds that levelled with 
the tops of Victoria and Lefroy themselves ; the remoter 
array of peaks unfamiliar in this new aspect." 

Surrounded by this galaxy of noble peaks, 

"Walls like the glittering domes on high 
Reared for the dwellers of the sky 
By heavenly architect," 

1 Appalachian Vol. VIII, p. 139. 



LAKE LOUISE 93 

what food for solemn meditation is prepared; what 
memories, too, of human interest centre round these 
ice-bound crags ! 

In solemn awe we gaze on the glazed steeps of Mt. 
Lefroy, and our companion tells with bated breath of the 
long toil of the ascent, the alternate hope and fear as to 
the outcome, the satisfaction as at last success appeared 
within their grasp; and then the sudden ghastly moment 
of their leader's fall, the agonizing watching of the inert 
body in its downward course, the helplessness to stay 
his sure destruction or to aid in any way; the slow 
descent with nerves racked and intense, the touching 
last farewell, the fearful night spent on the pass in drift- 
ing snow, the search for help, the long return, and final 
carrying of the corpse of the loved friend to Laggan. 
And then the eye lights up again as memory strides a 
year forward and on the anniversary the vanquished 
leader's plan is carried out triumphantly and the suc- 
cessful first ascent is recapitulated step by step. Next, 
turning round, the same intrepid pioneer tells us the tale 
of Mt. Victoria's conquest and of the first crossing of 
our pass. 

Again, we look with mingled feelings to the triple 
mass of Mt. Goodsir, the mightiest monarch west of the 
Divide, which only a short week before had baffled us, 
when within a few short feet of its proud crest, by the 
extraordinarily corniced condition of the final ridge. 
Then to Mt. Biddle, with a confident hope that, barring 
accidents, we should be seated on its sharp pinnacle 
within two days, and we wonder, as we study its sharp 



94 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

aretes and bands of girdling precipice, which is the most 
vulnerable side and by what line of approach we are to 
make the first attack. And so, with all the fulness of 
interest of past and future, the present slips all too 
quickly by and Hasler summons us to hurry up. 

Then down, down, down, glissading here and there 
on patches of old snow, striding with giant leaps through 
the loose slopes of debris, till we halt briefly on the 
shore of little Lake Oesa, the " ice " lake, almost entirely 
frozen over even in mid- July, circled by precipices, fed 
by a glacier tongue. A tumbling streamlet issues 
westward, which we follow down through grassy, flowery 
meadows, past tiny lakelets, each with its own distinc- 
tive character and charm of form and colour and envi- 
ronment : soon the brook disappears only to burst forth 
from its subterranean channel some hundreds of feet 
below, and finally to leap in an exquisite cascade of 
interlacing silvery threads over a ruddy cliff in a frame 
of waving fir trees, plunge into the peaceful depths of 
Lake O'Hara and sink to rest on the broad bosom of 
that enchanting mirror-like expanse. 

At the lower end of the lake we spy, not without 
mundane satisfaction, even amid these fairy-like sur- 
roundings, the white gleam of our tents, and soon we 
are reposing on the velvet turf, drinking in deep 
draughts of tea and scenery (an excellent mixture), and 
feasting upon Nature in its primitive simplicity and 
grandeur and upon her products as modified by the 
manufacturing and culinary arts of man. 

The next morning, in contrast to the clear brilliancy 



LAKE LOUISE 95 

of yesterday, dawned with weeping skies. Climbing 
was out of the question, but the day need not be wasted 
and, after vainly waiting awhile for a clearance, we 
tramped off to visit Lake McArthur and to prospect 
for the best route by which to tackle Mt. Biddle. 
Forest and swamp, equally wet, alternated until we rose 
towards McArthur Pass, and, rounding the rugged, stony 
shoulder of Mt. Schaeffer, we soon arrived at the edge 
of the lonely lake. Lying between two lofty spurs, that 
rise abruptly hundreds of feet above, it nestles close 
under the towering mass of the main peak, a fair-sized 
glacier thrusting its crevassed tongue far into the 
waters, which are frozen over almost all the year. 

Our survey of the mountain resulted in the selection 
of a route that appeared feasible, and, having thus 
accomplished the immediate object of our jaunt, we 
faced towards Cathedral Mountain and started back for 
camp. The rain was heavier than ever, and hurry led 
to a near approach to a somewhat undignified race, when 
Professor Fay, in swinging off a ledge on to some loose 
stones slippery with the wet, unfortunately wrenched his 
knee severely and was put hors de combat. This mis- 
fortune was Christian's opportunity to display others of 
his sterling qualities, and he mounted the Professor 
on his sturdy shoulders and, with marvellous strength, 
agility and sure-footedness, bore him on high over loose 
boulders and down narrow ledges to the flatter ground, 
whence he and Mr. Scattergood supported the limping 
invalid until I met them with a horse which I had raced 
to camp to bring to the Professor's aid. 



96 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The melancholy procession trailed into camp in due 
time, and on the following day proceeded in the still 
pouring rain down the rough banks of Cataract Creek, 
with sundry crossings and many a shaking up for the 
poor, suffering equestrian, till Hector station saw the 
termination of his woes and on a convenient freight 
train the remainder of the journey back to Field was 
comfortably made. 

Mt. Biddle has since fallen to the prowess of that 
energetic climber, Professor H. C. Parker, of Columbia 
University, and Dr. A. Eggers, who, under the invin- 
cible guidance of Christian and Hans Kaufmann, as- 
cended by a long and circuitous route from a camp in 
Prospector's Valley. The approach was across several 
ridges to the south arete, " Here," Professor Parker 
writes, 1 " we enjoyed some most sensational rock-work, 
for the arete narrowed to a very knife-edge and fairly 
overhung the vast depths of Prospector's Valley. The 
climbing was neither difficult nor dangerous, however. 
. . . After a time the arete ended abruptly in an almost 
vertical face of rock, but, as usual, Christian discovered 
a practicable route to surmount this obstacle, and, climb- 
ing through a most picturesque ' window ' of rock, we 
came out just below the final summit cliffs. These 
cliffs, while not high, were unscalable from this side ; so 
we made an easy traverse over a slope of rock and snow, 
and gained the northern side of the mountain just 
under the summit. 

" The face of the peak, which here towers majesti- 

1 Appalachian Vol. X, p. 298. 



LAKE LOUISE 97 

cally over Lake Mc Arthur, is extraordinarily steep for 
the last few hundred feet, but, had the snow slopes been 
in good condition, it would have presented little diffi- 
culty. In place of snow, however, we again encountered 
solid ice, and so were forced for a short distance to take 
to a slope of varied rock and ice, depending on the most 
uncertain of hand- and foot-holds. 

" But soon we made our way upward by means of a 
short chimney, so narrow that I could not get through, 
but had to swing out over it. This passed, the summit 
lay but a few steps beyond, and the last peak . . . was 
conquered." 

Cataract Valley I visited on two subsequent occa- 
sions: once, when traversing Cathedral Mountain after 
the first ascent of that peak; and again, when mak- 
ing the first demonstration of the possibility of reaching 
Lake O'Hara directly from Field, across the Dennis 
and Duchesnay Passes, an attractive but fatiguing ex- 
pedition. The descent is by a beautiful, lake-strewn 
and finely timbered valley, which joins the main valley 
about midway between Lake O'Hara and the mouth of 
Cataract Creek. Making this trip entirely alone on a 
bracing October day, there was no check to the rapidity 
with which my lengthy legs bore me along, and the time 
taken so misled a party conducted by Professor Fay the 
following summer, in which some ladies were included, 
that I most unintentionally caused them to be overtaken 
by darkness long before the lower valley was attained, 
necessitating an impromptu bivouac with sundry attend- 
ant inconveniences. 



98 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Although fairly long, and somewhat wearisome as 
far as Dennis Pass, the route is grand and beautiful for 
almost its entire length, and for a good walker is un- 
doubtedly the finest way from Field to the enchanting 
fairy-land of Lake O'Hara and its neighbourhood. 



CHAPTER V 

THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 

The list of fatal accidents in the Canadian Rockies 
contains, happily, but a single name up to the present, 
though in perusing the records of the earlier climbers 
one is struck by the very special providence that has 
watched over their initial efforts. Few of the pioneers 
had any real experience of the " science " of mountain- 
eering: enthusiasm, natural athletic tendencies and some 
scrambles on comparatively easy and safe mountains con- 
stituted their chief stock in trade, and only one or two 
had any practical acquaintance with the glacial world, 
or of crag-work in its more difficult aspects. The rope 
and ice-axe were also novelties to almost all. 

These men climbed without guides, and ordinarily 
at least one complete novice was included in the party, 
sometimes more than one. To their intrepidity, sturdy 
resolution and natural ability their successors must offer 
a hearty tribute of admiration, mingled with congratu- 
lation at the good fortune that attended them. As one 
of the most prominent remarked to me : " Our ignorance 
enabled us somehow to achieve without accident what 
now our knowledge would cause us unhesitatingly to 
avoid." It is the old story of rushing in where angels 
fear to tread, and a special providence preserved them 

99 



ioo IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

from dangers which often lurked unnoticed and un- 
heeded, in numbers and of a character sufficient to appall 
the seasoned mountaineer. 

Glaciers and their ways take a lifetime to understand 
fully. Snowcraft is an education which many guides, 
with the experience of years, are not yet masters of; 
and almost every season the treacherous snows will 
claim amongst their victims men who have spent years 
in studying their conditions. Many a vast abyss is 
hidden under an unbroken expanse of seemingly solid 
snow, where even the keenest and most practised eye 
cannot detect their presence ; and frequently an intricate 
network of these huge crevasses may be gayly passed 
over by an unskilled party, perhaps unroped, where an 
experienced guide would have each individual on the qui 
vive, the rope held taut, the eye and hand watchfully 
ready, as he winds here and there, probing at every step 
and noting indications of the most subtle type. 

My recollection takes me back to an amusing epi- 
sode — amusing for all but one — some years ago, which 
illustrates the dangers which even a good guide may fail 
to recognize. Four of us were traversing the wide sea 
of neve 1 at the upper end of the Durand Glacier, in 
Switzerland. The Col du Grand Cornier had just been 
crossed and the steep descent on the eastern side nego- 
tiated. Above us towered the grand precipices of 
the Dent Blanche and the Grand Cornier; before us 
stretched a gently sloping plain of purest snow, its surface 
scarcely marked by any fissure. Of course we were roped 

1 The upper part of a snow-covered glacier. 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 101 

and ready for any emergency, although expecting none. 
Our guide was an experienced man, well versed in all 
the problems of the glaciers and was no stranger to the 
route. Not a depression of the tiniest description, no 
crack, no special softness of the snow, gave the least 
indication of the presence of a crevasse, although we 
knew that numerous huge caverns lurked beneath the 
heavy mantle of eternal snow. 

The splendid summit of the Rothhorn rose in front, 
exquisitely lovely in the sunlight, and a halt was called to 
take a photograph. The photographer, who happened 
to be second on the string, set up his camera on the level 
surface and stepped back a pace to focus the picture, 
when, in an instant, he was not ! Only a hole in the 
white crust was visible where but a second previously 
my friend had stood, and two narrow grooves cut by the 
straining ropes that bound the departed to his surprised 
companions. In a few minutes he was hauled out, none 
the worse, quite cool, — he made some remarks about 
the temperature down below, — and proceeded with his 
unfinished picture, after selecting another location, the 
stability of which he this time took the precaution of 
establishing beyond peradventure. 

When I peered into the hole he had so ruthlessly 
made, I saw a chasm with glistening walls of ice, of every 
shade of blue most exquisitely graded to the deepest 
hues of night, where far below the darkness hid the 
bottom of the cavity from view. This specimen was 
probably at least 300 feet in depth, broad at the upper 
rims, yet so entirely masked that the guide and my 



102 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

friend passed over it unwittingly, and not one of us could 
tell where space ended and the solid ice occurred 
beneath the snowy covering. 1 

Still more appalling and even more difficult to re- 
cognize are the limitations of avalanching snow. The 
acuteness of the angle at which it lies, its consistency, 
the character of the substratum, are all-important factors 
in the questions of safety and speed upon a slope of 
snow ; and considerable experience is necessary to know 
just where and how to traverse it. 

A kindred topic is the glissade, one of the most 
delightful luxuries in a descent, but intensely fruitful in 
mishaps. There are so many possibilities of accident; 
from avalanching snow, from a patch of hard surface, 
where the glissader loses all control, from bergsckrunds 2 
or rocks at the bottom of an inviting slope. And the 
temptation is so great, the perils are so easily overlooked, 
that many a risk is run, sometimes with most disastrous 
consequences. 

Then come the cornices, the bugbear of every 
climber, and they are far more frequently met with in 
Canada than in Switzerland. Almost every ridge pos- 
sesses one at least, and I have on more than one occasion 
found on the same arete cornices overhanging each side 
in turn, and springing from the steepest curtains of soft 
snow and even from rock faces practically sheer. A foot 
too near the edge and the huge mass may break away 
and hurl the party to the depths of a fearsome precipice. 

1 See also Appendix B, p. 445, for serious accident on Mt. Gordon. 

2 The large fissures occurring at the point where a glacier breaks from the 
mountain-side. 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 



103 



The difficulties of crag-work are far less formidable 
or dangerous to the inexperienced. The average athlete, 
especially if he has scrambled amongst rocks and cliffs 
even on the lowest hills, requires a hundredfold less edu- 
cation to become safe or even expert on rocks than on 
snow and ice. He learns the limitations of his powers 




CORNICE ON THE SUMMIT OF MT. HABEL 



more rapidly. Dangers are more apparent and easily 
recognized. It is an open rather than a hidden and 
treacherous foe that he has to battle with ; and certainly 
amongst amateurs for one thorough expert on snow and 
ice there will be found ten or a dozen in the foremost 
rank on rocks. 

Yet there are many points to learn, apart from the 
mere physical ability to overcome obstacles. Many a 



104 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

novice has been trapped by making an ascent on a 
troublesome face of rock and finding himself utterly 
unable to descend, for almost invariably the former is 
considerably the simpler problem, as one's work is right 
in front and the centre of gravity tends inward. Often, 
too, it is necessary to note the landmarks very carefully ; 
points look so very different when seen from the reverse 
direction, and often it is extremely difficult to recognize 
the gully or ledge by which alone a way back to the 
lower world is possible. Most precious hours of daylight 
may be lost in this way, necessitating a night out in 
the cold, foodless and weary, or perhaps an even worse 
disaster. 

But the most dangerous of all the contingencies 
in crag-work, one which is ever present and singularly 
aggravated in the Canadian Rockies, is the peril of loose 
stones and rocks. Sometimes they come in showers 
from above ; sometimes the seemingly firmest of holds 
gives way most unexpectedly, and even masses of many 
cubic feet will break off as the climber rests his weight 
on them. Nothing must be taken for granted or given 
the benefit of the doubt. Each hold must be amply 
tested, and then be deemed more likely unreliable than 
not. 

In addition to the actual features of the mountains 
and their surroundings, there is much to be learnt in the 
manipulation of the two invaluable accessories of modern 
mountain-climbing, — the rope and ice-axe. The ice-axe 
is the first possession of the budding mountaineer, and 
what a thrill passes through the innermost being of the 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 105 

novice, who has caught the fever of the peaks, when first 
he grasps his own ! The " ancients " used a long pole 
shod with iron, and when steps were needed dug 
out hollows laboriously with the point. When more 
ambitious ascents commenced to be made and great 
stretches of ice-walls and hanging-glaciers demanded the 
hewing of a long staircase in the hardest ice, this early 
method was impossible and hatchets were carried for the 
purpose. Then the ice-axe was evolved. The pole was 
shortened, and the top furnished with a steel head, fash- 
ioned with a pick at one end and a flattened scoop at 
the other. In hard snow the latter is sufficient to hol- 
low out an adequate foothold, and the pick is employed 
to' cut steps in the solid ice. 

For anchorage purposes the axe is very useful, and 
comes in handy at times in pulling one's self up as well 
as in descending. Its uses are innumerable on and off 
the ice. In glissading it acts as a support and brake 
simultaneously ; it clears away debris, probes for hidden 
crevasses, cuts steps, serves as a balancing pole when 
crossing streams on fallen logs, or as a balustrade for 
timid folks, chops wood for fires and boughs for beds, is 
a distinct success as a can-opener, and, on an emergency, 
comes in handy as a camera stand, two making a most 
effective substitute for the conventional tripod. 

How to carry it to the climber's best advantage and 
the least danger to his comrades' eyes and limbs is not 
learnt in a day, and many a slip would be avoided and 
far more rapid progress made if its use were better 
understood. 



io6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

As to the rope, its value can scarcely be overesti- 
mated. Although perhaps amongst experts it is rarely, 
if ever, in rock-work called upon to help a climber physi- 
cally, its moral support is quite incalculable. The differ- 
ence in climbing up or down a really difficult cliff, with 
or without its presence, must be felt to be properly 
appreciated. The strain is minimized, the danger virtu- 
ally nil, when the rope is there. And, as a precaution, 
no sensible man would be without it when there is any 
likelihood, or, in certain cases, any possibility, of a con- 
siderable fall. 

Whilst of appreciable importance in rock-climbing, 
the use of the rope on glaciers and steep snow slopes is 
absolutely imperative. The masked crevasse, the slip- 
pery surface, the frail snow-bridge, the tendency to 
avalanche, demand every possible care to guard against 
an accident. And though on both rocks and snow 
instances may be cited when a rope has dragged one or 
more victims with the fallen climber to destruction, yet 
the cases where it has been the means of saving life and 
limb are vastly more numerous; and the frequency of 
wholly unnecessary disasters because of its neglect wit- 
nesses to the immense advantage of its use. 

But how to use the rope properly is by no means so 
simple as at first sight appears. It is quite an art. To 
keep continually taut the eighteen or twenty foot length 
between one's self and the next man in front is not at 
all easy when the varying conditions of the surface are 
taken into consideration. The " feel " of the rope behind 
as well as in front must be attended to, lest a sudden 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 107 

jerk catch the climber unawares, and instead of holding 
up he is pulled down himself. Watchfulness and readi- 
ness to aid on either side must be constant, and assist- 
ance, if required, given on the instant, or it may be too 
late. Beginners are apt to let the rope get slack or 
twisted, to catch on rocks, to sweep down stones and 
debris on the heads of those below, to jerk their neigh- 
bours unnecessarily, possibly in a ticklish place, and so 
on. Such constant care is most undoubtedly a nui- 
sance and often causes a slower gait, but it may mean 
the difference between defeat and victory, between death 
and life. 

Taking all these things into consideration, it is a 
marvel that there were not several fatal accidents in the 
Canadian Rockies in the early days. Fortunately the 
peaks immediately adjacent to the railway line present 
no serious difficulties for the most part, and the few 
really first-class climbs were wisely let alone. The strati- 
fication of the mountains of the watershed and their 
prevailing tilt cause many of the peaks to have one 
very easy line of access, and as the prime art of the 
first ascender is to find the simplest route, a long 
list of successes has been achieved with but one fatal 
incident. 

My own experiences on Mt. Victoria, Cathedral 
Mountain, Mts. Habel, Collie, Vaux, Columbia, Lyell, 
and many others, together with observations of peaks 
that had been previously climbed, lead me emphatically 
to the conclusion that the average Rocky Mountain 
peak is extremely easy from the point of view of a fairly 



108 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

experienced mountaineer, and admirably adapted as a 
splendid field for the beginner in the study of the craft. 
Now that the Canadian Pacific Railway furnishes excel- 
lent guides, all danger is eliminated, and every possible 
facility is offered for the enjoyment of the exercise and 
scenery which are the glorious rewards of mountaineer- 
ing and to be obtained through it alone. 

By the strange fate that is so often noticeable, the 
victim of the tragedy on Mt. Lefroy was the most 
unlikely of all the climbers to meet with such an end. 
Philip Stanley Abbot was undoubtedly the most expe- 
rienced amongst the pioneers who visited the Rockies. 
He was a Boston man, one of the most enthusiastic and 
probably the most expert of the members of the Appa- 
lachian Mountain Club, to whom all mountain-lovers 
owe so great -a debt for opening up these fastnesses and 
calling attention to the preeminent position of this 
region as the American Switzerland. 

He sought no bubble reputation, as, alas, is too often 
the case in these days of " records " and competition. 
He loved the mountains, studied them with all his 
energetic, thorough nature, appreciated their character- 
istics and their moods, enjoyed with all the born moun- 
taineer's keen ardour the battle against the elements 
and all the varied forces of nature in its wildest, most 
titanic sphere. More than one season spent among the 
giants of the Alps had given him the opportunity of 
learning something of the craft of mountaineering. The 
opportunity, as was natural to a man of his rare calibre, 
was eagerly grasped, and characteristically made the 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 109 

most of. Then he joined the little band of pioneers in 
the Canadian Rockies, which he at once recognized as 
the natural home of alpine climbing in America, and 
brought his best powers of experience, energy and judg- 
ment to bear upon their problems in the field, and in the 
enlistment of the sympathies of kindred spirits and the 
rousing of the energies of eastern athletes to invade 
and conquer these new and matchless worlds, where 
sport in its highest, purest form can be enjoyed. 

In 1895, Professor Fay, Mr. Abbot and Mr. C. S. 
Thompson were at Lake Louise, surrounded by the 
mountains, listening to the crash of the avalanche and 
the mysterious whisperings of the " Spirit of the Peaks," 
that lured them on to the enchanted land. The fires 
within, already kindled and brightly glowing, were 
fanned into a flame by the magnificent vision of Mt. 
Lefroy, as seen one afternoon from the shaly summit of 
Goat Mountain. The northern slopes in profile showed 
a most promising and really simple line of ascent, pro- 
vided the top of the great cliffs, 700 to 800 feet in 
height, that girdle the lower portion of the mountain, 
could be reached. This vertical black wall was cleft at 
one point by a couloir, filled at its base with snow, and 
easy enough most of the distance up; but the details of 
the rocky fissure above could not be clearly seen and 
appeared extremely problematical. So a reconnaissance 
was made. 

This couloir had previously attracted Messrs. Wilcox, 
Frissell and Henderson as perhaps a feasible approach 
to the enticing slopes above, and an attempt to climb it 



no IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

resulted in an accident that might easily have proved the 
first fatality in the region ; strangely enough, upon the 
same mountain that afterwards gained such unenviable 
notoriety. 

" On either side of us," writes Mr. Wilcox, 1 " there 
were overhanging walls, decayed limestone pillars, tot- 
tering masses of broken stone with daylight showing 
through the cracks, and a thousand rocks resting 
threateningly balanced and apparently ready to fall at 
a feather's touch. That we were not dismayed at this 
hopeless prospect proves that we were more audacious 
than prudent. 

" At length when reaching upwards for a handhold, 
with a boost from below and my face against the lime- 
stone, I saw a large and dangerous-looking stone poised 
above us. ' Fellows, we must look out for that stone,' 
said I, ' and not let the rope touch it.' A moment 
after, Henderson and I were above this, climbing an- 
other rock ledge, when we heard the grinding sound 
of the large stone moving. We turned in time to see 
Frissell falling. The rope tightened and held him on a 
ledge ten feet below, but the tremendous stone, which 
must have weighed a ton, was rolling over and coming 
down upon him. For a brief but awful moment, help- 
less and immovable, as in a frightful dream, we saw the 
stone leap out into the air to descend upon our poor 
comrade, but he made a desperate movement, pressing 
hard against the cliff, and escaped the full force of the 
blow. Then the whole place resounded with the hollow 

1 " The Rockies of Canada," p. 40. 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY m 

rattle of falling stones as they danced in a shower of 
death below us. 

" We found that Frissell could not stand, one le°- 
being perfectly helpless, while he was so dazed by the 
shock that he fainted twice in our arms. . . . Uncoiling 
the full length of the rope, one end was fastened round 
his waist, and the other round mine. With an ice-axe 
buried to the head in the snow as an anchor, I paid out 
the rope and lowered our helpless friend fully fifty feet. 
Then Henderson went down and, anchoring himself in 
like manner, held him while I came down. This opera- 
tion, repeated a number of times, brought us soon upon 
the comparatively level glacier." 

"Help was brought by Mr. Wilcox from the Chalet, 
and the invalid carried thither on an improvised litter, 
where he was attended to by a doctor who arrived on 
a hand-car from Banff, thirty-five miles distant, and ere 
long he happily recovered. 

The trio of 1895 met with no physical mishap, but, 
owing (apparently) to insufficient respect for the diffi- 
culties to be encountered, deferred their start until 3 p.m. 
and were most unfortunately overtaken by darkness at 
the critical point. Aided by a short and narrow tongue 
of snow, just strong enough to cross, they reached the 
upper rocks and worked their way up a " chimney " for 
some distance till a mauvais pas was encountered, with 
the top still out of sight. Though impressed with the idea 
that a passage might be forced, there was no chance of ef- 
fecting it before daylight disappeared, and, discretion being 
the wiser course, an immediate retreat was determined on. 



H2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Next morning they returned to the attack, but again 
the fates were contrary. A warm spell of weather and 
a drizzling rain had rendered the snow tongue unsafe, so 
a second chimney was attempted. This formed a most 
effective watercourse, with smooth sides glazed here 
and there with verglas, down which an icy shower 
was gayly plunging, soaking the climbers to the 
skin and overcoming the ardour of at least two of 
the party. Once more retreat was obligatory, and the 
problem of the couloir has, I believe, never yet been 
solved. 

Since then a charming pathway has been found, 
clearly defined when snow is fairly fresh upon the peak, 
by means of an ample ledge running almost horizontally 
along the eastern face of the mountain, from the con- 
spicuous mass of avalanche snow about its centre to the 
apex of the buttress at the north-east corner. Thus the 
summit of the cliff belt is easily attained, and the re- 
mainder of the ascent is of comparatively little moment, 
unless the mountain is in a glazed condition. 

Meantime, however, this solution of the problem of 
Mt. Lefroy was not yet discovered, and a new line of 
ascent suggested itself to Mr. Abbot, in spite of the 
emphatic opinion of an earlier explorer, Mr. S. E. S. 
Allen, who alone had viewed the peak from the sug- 
gested point of attack. This was on the western side, 
directly from the pass now bearing the honoured name of 
him who conceived the bold scheme and in the execu- 
tion of it lost his life. Mr. Allen had ascended the 
pass from the O'Hara Lake direction and examined 




"3 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 115 

the steep, white slope of Mt Lefroy from close at hand. 
He judged that ordinarily so great a quantity of step- 
cutting would be involved as to render an ascent im- 
practicable within the limits of a day, making a start 
from Lake Louise. This verdict proved more of an in- 
centive than a deterrent to Mr. Abbot, and the following 
summer found him, with his previous companions and 
the Rev. George Little, ready for another assault upon 
the fascinating peak. 

On August 3rd, 1896, the Chalet was left behind at 
6.15 — a somewhat noticeably late hour in view of the 
distance and the difficulties that lay before the party. 
In an hour and a quarter the glacier was reached, 
and. seventy minutes later they roped up opposite the 
familiar couloir. Soon they turned the shoulder of Mt. 
Lefroy and entered on the new ground of the magnifi- 
cent gorge dividing that mountain from Mt. Victoria. 

The usual thunders of frequent avalanches greeted 
their ears, and the superb cascades of powdered ice and 
drifting snow were at their best. With but a single 
brief halt they pressed towards the narrow V-shaped nick 
at the head of the long snow slopes that rise steadily to 
the level of the cliff walls which form the confines of 
the glacier below. 

Not till 11.50, however, did they gain the longed-for 
crest, and turned to scan the massive mountain-side, 
whose ice-crowned pinnacle still towered 2000 feet above 
the pass. Almost immediately the joyful exclamation 
came from Mr. Abbot's lips, " The peak is ours ! " And 
(to quote from Professor Fay's intensely graphic account 



n6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

of the occurrence) 1 " surely his confidence seemed justi- 
fied. From here an unobstructed way was seen leading 
up to the long summit arete, which still frowned nearly 
2000 .feet above the pass. The vast mountainside rose 
in a sloping wall, ice-clad for the greater part, yet with 
here and there long upward leads of rock that probably 
could be scaled, as the dip was in the right direction. . . . 
At 12.30 p.m. ... we again set forth to complete, as 
we fondly believed, the largest enterprise in the way of 
mountaineering that has ever [1896] been accomplished 
on Canadian peaks. Our record shows that in the first 
half-hour we made excellent progress, for at one o'clock 
our aneroid reading was 10,400, — 300 feet above our 
lunching-place. ... Of the next four hours and a half 
the writer of this narrative has a very vague recollection. 
. . . These hours were spent either in cutting steps in 
our zigzag course up ice slopes, or in wary advance up the 
unreliable slopes of rock, the effect of a slip upon which 
would differ slightly in ultimate results from a slip on 
the ice itself. ... At 5.30 we drew up under an im- 
mense bastion possibly seventy-five feet in height, behind 
which lay the summit, of which as yet, owing to fore- 
shortening, we had had no satisfactory view. This 
frowning face rose sheer from a narrow margin of toler- 
ably stable scree that lay tilted between its base and the 
upper edge of the sloping ice that we had just left behind 
us. Looking past it on the right we saw, a few hundred 
feet beyond, the tawny southern arete, so shattered as to 
be utterly impassable. In one place a great aperture, 

1 Appalachian Vol. VIII, p. 140. 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 117 

perhaps forty feet high and five or six in width, revealed 
the blue sky beyond. Evidently our course did not lie 
in that direction. On the left the dusky northern arete 
rose with an easy gradient possibly an eighth of a mile 
away, but across an ice slope similar to that up which 
we had so long been toiling, and in truth a continuation 
of the same. To cross it was perfectly feasible, but it 
would take so long to cut the necessary steps that a 
descent of the peak before dark would have been out 
of the question. 

" But now Mr. Abbot, who had moved forward along 
the rock-wall to the limit of the rope, cheerfully an- 
nounced an alternative. His view beyond an angle in 
the bastion revealed a vertical cleft up which it was 
possible to climb by such holds as offered themselves. 
Bidding Thompson and me to unrope and keep under 
cover from falling stones, he clambered some thirty feet 
up the rift, secured a good anchorage, and called upon 
Professor Little to follow. This the latter proceeded to 
do, but while standing at the bottom of the cleft prepar- 
ing to climb, he received a tingling blow from a small 
'stone dislodged by the rope. A moment later a larger 
one falling on the rope half severed it, so as to require a 
knot. As danger from this source seemed likely to con- 
tinue, our leader had Little also free himself from the 
rope and come up to where he stood. From here a 
shelf led around to the left, along which Abbot now 
proceeded a few yards and discovered a gully leading 
upward, unseen from the point first attained, and this 
also he began to ascend. To Mr. Little's question, 



Mi8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

whether it might not be better to try and turn the bas- 
tion on the shelf itself, he replied : ' I think not. I have 
a good lead here.' 

" These were the last words he ever uttered. A 
moment later Little, whose attention was for the mo- 
ment diverted to another portion of the crag, was con- 
scious that something had fallen swiftly past him, and 
knew only too well what it must be. Thompson and I, 
standing at the base of the cliff, saw our dear friend 
falling backward and head-foremost, saw him strike the 
upper margin of the ice slope within fifteen feet of us, 
turn completely over and instantly begin rolling down 
its steep incline. After him trailed our two lengths of 
English rope — all we had brought with us — which we 
had spliced together in our ascent over the last rock 
slope, in order to gain time by having less frequent 
anchorages than were necessitated by the short intervals 
of one sixty-foot line. As the limp body rolled down- 
ward in a line curving slightly towards the left, the rope 
coiled upon it as on a spool, — a happy circumstance 
amid so much of horror, — for not only did this increase 
of friction sensibly affect the velocity of the descent of 
900 feet to the narrow plateau of scree above mentioned, 
but doubtless the rope by catching in the scree itself 
prevented the unconscious form from crossing the nar- 
row level and falling over the low cliff beyond. Had it 
passed this, nothing, apparently, could have stopped it 
short of the bottom of the gorge leading up to the pass 
from the western side of the Divide, — a far more fear- 
ful fall than that already made." 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 119 

At 6.30 the slow and sad descent was commenced by 
the awed and heartbroken survivors. Without a rope 
the circumstances called for unremitting caution and 
great self-command. Fortunately the steps on the ascent 
had been made exceptionally large, but for three long 
hours, while sunset radiance gave way to dusk, they 
worked their "slow way downward, and at length stood 
beside the motionless form that all this time had lain in 
full view. To our surprise life was not yet extinct. . . . 
A faint murmur, that my imagination interpreted as a 
recognition of our presence and an expression of grati- 
tude that we at least had escaped from peril, alone broke 
the silence for a brief moment, and then we three bared 
our heads in the twilight, believing that his generous 
spirit was already passing." 

He lived a short time longer, however, while with 
gentle hands they bore him to a better resting-place, 
and then he peacefully breathed his last. To bear 
the lifeless body farther without assistance and in the 
dark was utterly impossible, and, sorrowfully leaving 
the remains of their comrade on the snowy platform, the 
three survivors with difficulty retraced their footsteps of 
the bright, hopeful morning in the deep gloom of night 
and grief. The night was spent on the cold wind-swept 
pass, and, setting out at 5 o'clock next morning, they 
reached the Chalet at 9.30 in the midst of a rain-storm. 

Obtaining the willing aid of Messrs. T. E. Wilson 
and Astley, the party in half an hour were once more on 
the way. Reaching the pass at 2.30, mists and snow- 
squalls enveloped them and made their task increasingly 



120 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

difficult. At four o'clock the work of lowering the body 
was begun, and even with the united efforts of the five 
it proved a long and perilous proceeding. Once the 
glacier was gained progress was more rapid, but dark- 
ness overtook them ere the lake was reached, and again 
the body had to be abandoned for the night. The fol- 
lowing day a party of bridge-builders, sent by the 
sympathizing officials of the Canadian Pacific Railway, 
carried the body to the station, and the long journey to 
the East concluded in the quiet service at Mt. Auburn 
on August 1 2th, when all that was mortal of noble Philip 
Abbot was laid to rest in hope and confidence of a 
future life. 

The cause of the accident remains a mystery. 
Whether a slip occurred, or the climber trusted to a 
mass of rock which suddenly gave way, or was struck 
by a falling stone, cannot be determined. The intense 
rottenness of the Rocky Mountain quartzite lends strong 
probability to the view that a hold may have proved 
treacherous, and Professor Fay's " impression " gives 
additional weight to the idea. " I know not how to 
account for my immediate impression," he writes, " un- 
less I actually saw something to create it during the 
momentary slackening of his swift rush past us, but it 
was an increase of horror lest a large stone, clasped in 
his arms, should crush him as he struck the slope." 

Abbot's caution was proverbial amongst his com- 
rades, though combined with an enthusiastic boldness, 
and a slip is the least likely of the three contingencies. 
The strange neglect to coil the rope is quite inexplicable 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 121 

to any experienced mountaineer, and the trail of its 
nearly 120 feet and liability to catch on the numerous 
projections and jerk the climber backward in a critical 
position, suggests another possible explanation of the 
fatal fall. 

On the first anniversary of this terrible disaster a 
party of nine set out from Lake Louise to make a fresh 
attempt to conquer the mountain that had so fatally 
repelled the last assault. It was quite an international 
combination. America was represented by six mem- 
bers, Professor C. E. Fay and Mr. C. S. Thompson of the 
previous campaign, the Rev. C. L. Noyes, Professors 
A. Michael and H. C. Parker, and Mr. J. R. Vanderlip. 
They were joined by Professors Norman Collie and 
Dixon, of the Alpine Club, hailing from Scotland and 
England respectively, and Peter Sarbach, the first Swiss 
guide to visit the Helvetia of North America. 

The route taken was practically identical with that 
made sadly memorable by the death of Mr. Abbot, and, 
although the abnormally large number of climbers, 
divided into three trios, was contrary to the accepted 
canons of mountaineering custom, a laborious but satis- 
factory climb resulted, and the proud peak was scaled 
successfully.' Starting at 3 a.m., the pass was reached in 
five hours, and the summit at eleven o'clock. The snow 
was in fine condition and enabled them to ascend the 
steep slopes without the trouble of cutting more than a 
few steps here and there. The condition of this snow is 
the crux of the ascent. Even on that day of victory it 
was perilously near an avalanching state, for two days 



i22 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

later when viewed from the crest of Mt. Victoria the 
snow had disappeared, leaving " an unbroken wall of 
gray ice. The entire layer from ten to fifteen inches in 
depth, then welded to the ice beneath, . . . had mean- 
time evaporated under the intense rays of the August 
sun. Our attack was made in the nick of time. A day 
later would have made it perilous, and exceedingly toil- 
some, if not impossible." 1 

Since 1897 tne peak has been ascended more than 
once, the regular route being the safer one by the ledge 
on the eastern face and up the northern slope. No longer 
formidable, the mountain still retains its interest. The 
shapely lines, stupendous cliffs and ice-capped crest still 
lay their fascinating spell upon the visitor, and this inter- 
est has gained an added power and intensity through 
the solemn and melancholy tragedy of that brilliant 
August afternoon in 1896. 

The lesson taught at so terrible a cost has not been 
in vain. The enthusiastic love that Abbot had for 
Nature's noblest works has been transplanted by his 
death to other hearts. The craft he so delighted in has 
gained adherents through his memory; whilst at the 
same time the awful shock of accident, occurring to a 
most skilful and habitually cautious mountaineer, has 
proved a valuable and perhaps much-needed warning, 
lest undue familiarity, a moment's want of thought or 
care or adequate testing of conditions, should involve not 
one life only but very likely several. 

Though the poor shattered body lies in the peaceful 

1 Professor Fay, in Appalachian Vol. IX, p. 9. 



THE TRAGEDY ON MOUNT LEFROY 123 

shelter of a New England tomb, the spirit of Philip 
Abbot lives again in many of those who knew him not, 
as well as those who had the privilege of intercourse 
and friendship with a rare personality; and his true 
monument is not within the lowland precincts of Mt. 
Auburn, but — standing majestically amongst the crags 
and glaciers he loved so well— the splendid peak of 
Mount Lefroy. 



CHAPTER VI 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 



Eastward from Mt. Lefroy, between the over- 
shadowing heights of that peak and Mt. Aberdeen, 
projects a fantastic little pile of rugged rocks, appropri- 
ately named " The 
Mitre." On either 
side a narrow ridge 
connects the smaller 
point with its huge, 
massive brethren. 
From these sharp 
notches glaciers 
sweep down, uniting 
early in their course, 
and fill the valley 
east of Mt. Lefroy 
as they descend to 
meet the great Vic- 
toria Glacier. 

A few days after 

Mr. Frissell's mishap 

in the couloir of Mt. Lefroy, the rest of his companions 

journeyed up this glacier on exploration bent. Their 

earliest adventure was the collapse of a frail bridge 

124 




THE MITRE 



[A. H. Cowan 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 125 

crossing a crevasse, which gave one member of the party 
a new and undesired experience, before he was pulled 
out of the icy chasm, and he reported that he could 
distinctly hear the gurgling of the water at the bottom 
of the depths over which he hung suspended by the 
precautionary rope. 

Selecting the left-hand, or eastern, pass as hav- 
ing the easier appearance, Mr. Allen found strenuous 
employment in cutting steps up the steep slopes of 
hardened snow. "After three hours," Mr. Wilcox chron- 
icles, 1 " of slow and tiring work we had climbed only 
one thousand feet. It was a cloudy day with a damp 
and cheerless atmosphere, and at this altitude of eight 
thousand feet there were occasional showers of hail 
and snow. Chilled by the long exposure and the neces- 
sary slowness of our progress, every member of the 
party became silent and depressed. ... To judge by 
our surroundings alone, we might have been exploring 
some lonely polar land, for our entire view was limited 
by high mountains covered with glaciers and snow and 
altogether barren of vegetation. . . . 

" The last few steps to a mountain pass are attended 
by a pleasurable excitement equalled only by the con- 
quest of a new mountain. The curtain is about to be 
raised, as it were, on a new scene and the reward of 
many hours of climbing comes at one magical revelation. 

" Arrived on the summit of our pass, 8500 feet above 
sea-level, we saw a new group of mountains in the dis- 
tance, while a most beautiful valley lay far below us. 

1 "The Rockies of Canada," p. 46. 



126 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Throughout a broad expanse of meadows and open 
country many streams were to be seen winding through 
this valley, clearly traceable to their various sources in 
glaciers, springs, and melting snowdrifts. With all its 
diversity of features spread like a map before our eyes, 
this attractive place was seen to be closely invested on 
the south by a semicircle of high and rugged mountains, 
rising steeply from a crescent-shaped glacier at their 
united bases. . . . 

" At the time of our arrival on the summit, a sud- 
den change took place in the weather. The wind came 
from another quarter, and the monotonous covering of 
grey clouds began to disclose blue sky in many places. 
The afternoon sun poured shafts of light through the 
moving clouds, and awakened bright colours over forests, 
meadows, and streams. 

" This beautiful scene opened before us so suddenly 
that for a time the cliffs echoed to our exclamations 
of pleasure, while those who had recently been most 
depressed in spirit were now most vehement in expres- 
sions of delight." 

The place was christened " Paradise Valley," and the 
climbers quickly descended the 1500 feet between the 
pass and valley-bed, and traversed the green depths 
with many a hardship incidental to fallen timber, 
swampy ground and legions of mosquitoes, which must 
have interfered somewhat with their sense of the fitness 
of the just-given name, albeit to the eye this fairy-land 
at every step revealed new wonders. Perhaps this dis- 
enchantment of the flesh may have had something to do 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 127 

with the transition to the name of " Sheol " given to the 
black bastion that projects into " Paradise " from the 
westward range. Eventually the inn at Lake Louise 
was reached in two detachments, one at 8 p.m., the 
other not until the following morning after a sleepless 
bivouac. 

At the head of Paradise Valley another col, just 
opposite the Mitre Pass, opens to the south, between 
the spurs of Mt. Hungabee and Mt. Temple ; and, a few 
days later, from its summit, the same party viewed for 
the first time the Valley of the Ten Peaks, then called 
by them, in contrast to the verdant vale of their ap- 
proach, " Desolation Valley." 

This mountain-circled valley, which is now becoming 
famous as one of the wildest and grandest corners of the 
mountain world, was thoroughly explored by Mr. Wilcox 
during the summer of 1899, and when I visited the place 
in 1902 a broad and easy pack-trail was almost com- 
pleted to the borders of its central lake, preparatory to 
the establishment of a chalet where the modern traveller 
can enjoy in luxury the quondam almost inaccessible 
retreat. 

Wandering eastward from the shores of Lake Louise, 
the wooded flanks of Fairview are first skirted, through 
alternating belts of timber, carpeted with bright green 
moss and brilliant flowers, and stretches of bare rocky 
ground, the track of old-time avalanches. And by the 
way, in their due season, a feast of berries often offers 
welcome refreshment in these woods and on these 
slopes. Soon, through the forest, looms the vast mass 



128 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

of Mt. Temple, the apex of whose gabled top rises 
some 6000 feet above, ornamented by an exquisite 
hanging-glacier. 

The dark sheer walls, their horizontal strata fre- 
quently picked out with streaks of purest snow, stand 
almost perpendicular above the sunny depths of the 
sweet green vale that separates them from the scarcely 
less impressive cliffs of Mt. Aberdeen, terminating in 
the black precipice of " Sheol." This is the entrance to 
Paradise Valley. The sunlit Wastach 1 Creek, finding 
its main source in the Horseshoe Glacier, beneath the 
splendid summit of Mt. Hungabee, flows swiftly through 
the open meadows and dense forest growth to join the 
Bow, and, crossing its merry stream, we wend our way 
round the wide-swelling base of the great mountain. 

But to see Mt. Temple in its noblest grandeur I 
would take you to the Saddleback. This is a broad 
green alp, nearly 2000 feet above Lake Louise, a very 
favourite hour's ascent by trail, between Mt. Fairview 
and the projecting " horn " of the Saddle Peak. Cross- 
ing the plateau to the tree-fringed brink of the abyss 
beyond, our gaze is carried straight across the chasm, 
1500 feet in depth, to the huge peak, at whose far base 
nestles a small azure lakelet (Lake Annette), like a tiny 
bit of sky dropped from the heavens and almost lost 
in the depths of the sombre firs. 

We can descend this abrupt mountain-side and, 
joining the lower trail at the Wastach bridge, continue 
round the flank of Mt. Temple, till we reach the shores 

1 " Beautiful " — an Indian word. 




129 



. THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 131 

of Moraine Lake. This lake, which occupies the centre 
of the Valley of the Ten Peaks, is very similar in size 
to Lake Louise, and likewise hemmed in on three sides 
by the relentless mountains, but there the resemblance 
ceases. Our new location is wild and bleak and deso- 
late. Mr. Wilcox, its real " discoverer," thus graphically 
describes the view from the lower extremity: 1 — 

" Ascending a ridge about fifty feet high, there lay 
before me one of the most beautiful lakes that I have 
ever seen. This lake, which I called 'Moraine Lake/ 
from the ridge of glacial formation at its lower end, is 
about a mile and a half long. A green forest covers the 
north shore, while the opposite side is overhung by 
a high precipice. Two large piles of debris from the 
mountains dip into the lake and encroach upon its 
surface in semicircular lines. An imposing cliff, like a 
Tower of Babel, makes a grand terminus to the range 
of mountains on this side of the valley. Beyond the 
water is a succession of high peaks rising five or six 
thousand feet above it, with a few short glaciers among 
them. The water is very clear and of the characteristic 
blue-green colour. A number of logs were floating on 
it in various places, while others crowded the shore and 
raised the water level by damming up the outlet stream. 
Part of the water escapes by subterranean channels 
among the quartzite and shale ledges of the moraine, 
and the rest flows out at the north-west end through an 
immense mass of logs. . . . 

" At the time of my arrival the lake was partly calm 

1 "The Rockies of Canada," p. 199. 



132 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and reflected the rough escarpments and cliffs from its 
surface. No scene has ever given me an equal impres- 
sion of inspiring solitude and rugged grandeur. I stood 
on a great stone of the moraine where, from a slight 
elevation, a magnificent view of the lake lay before me, 
and while studying the details of this unknown and 
unvisited spot, spent the happiest half-hour of my life.'" 

North of the Tower of Babel opens out a little valley 
of singular beauty and restfulness, aptly designated "Con- 
solation Valley," gemmed by pine-fringed lakelets and 
terminating in a snowy pass, above which rises to the 
right the ice-bound crags of Mt. Fay. From the latter 
stretch the Ten Peaks which give their name to the 
quondam " Desolation Valley." These summits were 
named by Mr. Allen from the numerals of the Stony 
Indian language : they lie upon the Continental water- 
shed, commencing with Mt. Heejee (No. i), swing round 
the curving head of the deep valley, which they wall in 
with a line of well-nigh vertical escarpments, and termi- 
nate in Mt. Wenkchemna (No. 10), which connects with 
Mt. Hungabee on the north, and with Mt. Temple on 
the east. The Wastach Pass, whence the first view 
of the valley was obtained, and a minor crest of rugged 
crags — Pinnacle Mountain — form the link with huge 
Mt. Temple, which fills the entire north-west side of 
the valley and dominates it in most strikingly majestic 
fashion. 

Between peaks Nine and Ten lies the one easy pass 
the range affords, Wenkchemna Pass, leading over to 
Prospector's Valley, a tributary of the Vermilion River, 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 133 

which flows into the Simpson, itself a feeder of the Koo- 
tenay River, and this in turn joins the Columbia River 
beyond the Kootenay and Arrow Lakes. 

So far as the writer has been able to ascertain, but 
two of the Ten Peaks have as yet been climbed. Nep- 
tuak (No. 9), lying immediately south of the Pass, was 
first ascended on the 2nd of September, 1902, by Messrs. 
Collie, Stutfield, Weed and Woolley, led by Hans Kauf- 
mann. From the pass, to quote the narrative of " Climbs 
and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies" (p. 315), 
" turning to the left, we traversed a small but steep snow- 
slope and got on to the arete. For some distance the 
going was easy enough, but presently we found our way 
barred by some formidable-looking walls and towers of 
rock. On our left we looked down the tremendous 
sheer precipice facing Desolation Valley : below on the 
right were shale-slopes and couloirs, now sheeted with 
ice, down which stones and icicles were falling with un- 
pleasant frequency. We therefore decided to stick to 
the arete ; and the result was one of the best climbs of 
the trip. It was good hard scrambling nearly the whole 
way, the rocks being almost vertical in places and the 
hand-holds not over-abundant ; and, being a party of five 
on one rope, we made but slow progress. 

" During the ascent we made a closer acquaintance 
with the variegated strata seen in the cliffs from below. 
First we encountered a layer of light-coloured limestone 
very much shattered; then came a bed of much firmer 
dark brown rock, then more pale loose limestone, and 
near the top almost black limestone with light veins. 



134 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Towards the summit the inevitable cornice was encoun- 
tered, and traversing some distance below it, we climbed 
a narrow ridge of rocks overhung with snow and found 
ourselves on the highest point at 3 p.m. Our height 
appeared to be 10,500 feet." 




Plwto. by~\ £H. C. Parker 

MT. HUNGABEE, MT. DELTAFORM AND MT. BIDDLE 



The chief amongst the Ten, however, is Mt. Delta- 
form, this title having been conferred by Mr. Wilcox, 
owing to the similarity of its form (as seen from Moraine 
Lake and the railroad) to the Greek letter A, and hav- 
ing unfortunately quite supplanted the Indian numeral 
" Saknowa," meaning No. 8, It has long appealed to 
climbers, but by reason of the practical impossibility of 
gaining the summit in one day from civilization, even as 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 135 

represented now by a camp at Moraine Lake, and the 
necessity of making one's base in distant Prospector's 
Valley, no attempt was made until on September 1st, 
1903, Dr. A. Eggers and Professor H. C. Parker, 
guided by Christian and Hans Kaufmann, succeeded 
in making the ascent. 

From Moraine Lake they climbed by couloir and 
arete to the crest of the ridge between peaks Four and 
Five, traversed behind peaks Five, Six and Seven, then, 
after a troublesome descent to the base of Mt. Deltaform, 
they rounded the shoulder of the latter into Prospector's 
Valley, and, in rain and darkness, reached a camp await- 
ing them beyond Wenkchemna Pass half an hour after 
midnight. Meanwhile, during their circuit of Mt. Delta- 
form, they had observed a very promising line of ascent, 
and next afternoon they moved their camp across the 
pass and located in a beautiful spot at the foot of Mt. 
Neptuak. 

The account of the climb must be given in Professor 
Parker's words. 1 " On the morning of September 1, in 
fine, clear weather, we left camp about six o'clock and, 
skirting the base of Neptuak, made our way over the 
lower slopes of Deltaform to the foot of the couloir by 
means of which we had determined to commence the 
attack. Sometimes by means of couloir, but more often 
by means of treacherous rock slopes, we made our way 
steadily upward, and at last, emerging through a chim- 
ney, found ourselves on the crest of the south-east arete, 
and the summit apparently within our grasp but a few 

1 Appalachia, Vol. X, p. 295. 



i 3 6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

hundred feet above us. At this point we partook of a 
second breakfast, and then for a considerable distance 
made rapid progress until our way was barred by a great 
rocky buttress. Its walls were too vertical to climb, so 
we were compelled to make a traverse along its base, 
trusting to insecure holds on the rock, and with a nearly 
sheer fall of thousands of feet below us. 

" This difficulty passed, even worse conditions were 
encountered just beyond. The rock gave place to solid 
ice, so hard and flint-like that an ordinary blow from an 
ice-axe seemed to make but slight impression upon it. 
But Christian, balancing in his steps, swung his axe 
with mighty strokes, and, sending the ice in showers 
of flying splinters down the slopes, hewed safe foot- 
holds. We kept close against the rocky wall and, 
turning a corner, made up a couloir to a rocky shelf 
above us. All this time, while Christian was cutting 
steps, we clung by most uncertain holds on rock or 
ice, chilled and numbed by a piercing wind. The shelf 
was covered by loose rock, and it required the utmost 
care not to send this flying down upon the companion 
directly beneath. From the shelf we crossed a couloir 
of solid ice, where Christian cut hand-holds as well as 
foot-holds, — for here our axes were of no avail as a 
means of securing a hold, and a slip by any one of us 
might have carried the whole party from such precari- 
ous footing. Having crossed the couloir, we clambered 
through a narrow chimney and came out just below the 
summit cliffs. Here we met with a most trying slope of 
rock and ice, offering no holds that could be trusted. 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 137 

" In one place, where Christian was only some four or 
five feet above me, he could not take another step either 
in advance or retreat, so great were the chances of a 
slip. Then Hans, with the utmost caution, slowly 
worked his way past me and with great care helped 
Christian down to a more secure position. 

" Another attempt, and we scaled the icy slope, com- 
ing upon a splendid cornice leading directly to the sheer 
pinnacle of rock forming the summit. To me this final 
rocky spire looked inaccessible ; but without a moment's 
hesitation Christian led us across the cornice and, say- 
ing our work was over, clambered up a narrow chimney 
I had failed to note, and presently we stood triumphant 
upon the utmost summit. . . . 

" The summit of Deltaform culminates in two great 
pinnacles of rock ; the higher is the eastern one, on 
which we stood ; the other terminates the western arete 
leading up from Neptuak. . . . We had no sooner reached 
the summit than Christian said: 'We must not stay 
here; we must get down.' It had required ten hours to 
make the climb from our camp some four thousand feet 
below, and it was now four o'clock in the afternoon. It 
must have taken nearly four hours to make the final 
climb from the foot of the buttress, possibly a vertical 
distance of three hundred feet. . . . At 4.25 we com- 
menced the descent. If the climb had been difficult, the 
descent was decidedly worse ; but somehow, after a space 
of what seemed like hours of almost imperceptible 
progress, we gained the foot of the buttress without a 
slip or mishap of any kind. 



138 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

" The weather had been rapidly growing worse, and 
now on the arete we were enveloped in a driving 
snow-storm. We reached the halting-place of the morn- 
ing and commenced our descent through the chimney as 
the gloom of evening fell upon us. Then we plunged 
downward over treacherous rock slope, difficult cliff, 
and dubious couloir, in the semi-darkness. At times 
the moon appeared through the drifting clouds long 
enough to reveal the depths below, and then once more 
the veil would intervene. 

" About two o'clock in the morning we rested on the 
rim of the last couloir, and as we waited heard the dull 
crash of a rock avalanche just beneath us. It was past 
three o'clock when we finally arrived in camp, after 
twenty-one hours of almost continuous work. The 
descent had taken eleven hours." 

About six weeks previously Mt. Hungabee, at the 
head of Paradise Valley, had succumbed to Professor 
Parker and the same two splendid guides. It is one of 
the most striking peaks in the entire Rocky Mountain 
region, although, on account of its entourage of lofty 
summits, some surpassing it and others almost equalling 
it in altitude, and by reason of its rising from a very 
high connecting ridge on either side, it does not possess 
the grandeur and impressiveness of more isolated moun- 
tains. Its sheer sides, narrow aretes and broken cliffs 
marked it as a problem of extreme interest to the 
mountaineer, but, as with Mt. Deltaform, the difficulties 
of approaching it prevented any attempt to climb its 
fascinating peak until, in 1901, Messrs. C. S. Thompson 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 139 

and G. M. Weed, with Hans Kaufmann, tried it from a 
bivouac high up in Prospector's Valley ; but, after a fine 
climb, they were obliged to desist when not very far 
from the summit. Bad weather kept Professor Collie's 
party from the peak the following year, and the same 
cause frustrated my designs that summer. So it 
remained for the present party to achieve success. 

Starting from Lake Louise, a pack-horse carried 
their " impedimenta " to Moraine Lake, where they 
shouldered heavy packs and crossed to the head of 
Prospector's Valley by the Wenkchemna Pass. This 
pass was first traversed by Mr. Allen in 1894, during 
his exhaustive exploration of this range of mountains. 
On July 2 1 st, 1903, at 3.50 a.m. they left their bivouac 
in the direction of Opabin Pass and had an easy climb 
for 2000 feet by an arete. " At this point," writes Pro- 
fessor Parker, 1 " farther progress was barred by a wall of 
vertical cliffs. Directly in our path this rocky battle- 
ment was broken by a narrow icy couloir and a much 
narrower chimney filled with ice. After inspecting the 
couloir, Christian decided that the chimney would be the 
safer means of ascent, and so, after seeing that Hans and 
I were in as secure positions as the circumstances would 
admit, and with directions not to move from our places 
close against the rock, he disappeared around an angle 
and commenced the perilous climb. 

" It was only by watching the rope that Hans and 
I could judge the progress Christian was making above 
us. For minutes at a time, it seemed, the rope would be 

1 Appalachian Vol. X, p. 291. 



i 4 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

motionless, then inch by inch it would slowly disappear 
up the chimney, and the crash of falling rocks and ice 
would warn us that we must cling even more closely and 
find what protection we could beneath the rocky wall 

" At last Christian gave the signal that I was to fol- 
low, first cautioning me most earnestly not to knock any 
rocks down on his brother Hans, for a slight mishap to 
any member of the party in a position like ours might 
mean a catastrophe for all. A short space of breath- 
less effort, a strong pull on the rope from Christian, 
and I stood by his side at the top of the chimney. 
Then, slowly and carefully, Hans made his way up and 
joined us. 

" Above us we could see a smooth steep slope lead- 
ing to the final summit arete. This slope consisted of 
snow covering treacherous rock, but, thus early in the 
morning and while in shadow, it was in fine condition, 
and we made our way easily to the great shoulder of the 
mountain just under the final peak and almost overhang- 
ing Paradise Valley. On this shoulder a second break- 
fast was eaten, and we anxiously studied the route that we 
must follow. The summit was only a few hundred feet 
above us, but the arete, broken by vertical cliffs at this 
point, was impossible to scale. We had only one alter- 
native left, to make an exciting traverse over a tre- 
mendously steep snowslope at the base of these cliffs 
and so reach the final cone. 

" We did not discuss the possible dangers of such a 
course, but cautiously made our way beneath the cliffs, 
turned a most sensational corner almost in mid-air above 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 141 

Paradise Valley, and then scaled a nearly perpendicular 
cliff by means of a convenient crack. We were now on 
the arete and but a very short distance from the sum- 
mit. Only one more difficulty confronted us : a narrow 
* gabel,' or break in the arete, only a few feet in width, 
it is true, but with a nearly sheer descent of thousands of 
feet on either side This gabel must be crossed to reach 
the summit. The arete was far too narrow to allow a 
jump being made with safety; so, slowly and carefully, 
while firmly grasping the rock on one side, Christian 
thrust his feet forward until they touched the other and 
his body bridged the chasm ; then a strong forward 
swing and he stood safely beyond the gap. For me, 
aided by the rope, the matter was far less difficult, and 
soon we made our way over the intervening arete, 
gained the corniced summit, and Hungabee, the grim 
old ' Chieftain,' at last was conquered." 

The ascent had occupied almost seven hours and the 
way down was fairly rapidly effected, with two unpleasant 
experiences. One, the snow-covered slope, where the 
hot sun was producing a disagreeable quantity and qual- 
ity of slush, a portion of which, not many moments after 
they had crossed it, slid downward and avalanched over 
the cliffs below. The other was the passage of the chim- 
ney, which was now spouting water and demanded as 
quick a descent as possible; then, "somewhat wet but 
very happy," they proceeded onward to camp at 6 p.m. 

While for the alpinist who yearns for a " first-class " 
climb with its attendant features to test his skill and 
pluck and energy, Mt. Hungabee and Mt. Deltaform are 



i 4 2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

without a doubt the pick of the surrounding mountains, 
Mt. Temple still remains the monarch, alike in impres- 
sive majesty and isolation as it stands supreme in alti- 
tude. It rears its noble glacier-crowned crest 11,637 feet 
above the sea, and out-tops all the peaks of the Divide, 
as far as Mt. Assiniboine, thirty-five miles distant to the 
south-east, and Mt. Lyell, nearly twice that distance 
to the north-west. It is a strange fact that, in all that 
stretch of a full one hundred miles (and half as far again 
at least if all the windings of the watershed are followed), 
the three most lofty and far the most prominent peaks 
are off the line of the Continental backbone; viz. Mt. 
Temple and Mt. Forbes, projecting on the eastern side, 
and Mt. Goodsir, the king of the Ottertails, in a separate 
little group on the Pacific slope. 

Mt. Temple, therefore, has its own particular attrac- 
tion, and also merits distinction from the fact that it was 
one of the very earliest of the big peaks to lend itself 
to the explorer as a point of vantage from which the 
region could be surveyed in a bird's-eye view. The 
panorama is a truly glorious one, and, as the climb is by 
no means difficult, it affords one of the best opportunities 
for the ordinary mortal to indulge in the sublime expe- 
rience of looking down upon a world where myriads of 
peaks, far-reaching valleys, countless glaciers, streams, 
and lakes, go to make up a vast, bewildering whole, that 
voices with its thousand tongues the praise of Him who 
made it all, and speaks to us in tones that surely must 
uplift our souls and bring them into closer touch with 
the Creator. 



THE VALLEY OF THE TEN PEAKS 143 

It was in August, 1894 (the 18th, to be exact), that 
Messrs. Allen, Frissell and Wilcox attained the summit 
of Mt. Temple. But this was not the first attempt. 
The previous year, the first and last named climbed 
nearly to 10,000 feet, where a steep precipice confronted 
them and the only visible means of getting higher was 
by a narrow gully, glazed with ice. There was a pierc- 
ing wind, clouds drifted round the highest peaks, and 
then a snowstorm capped the climax and drove them 
back to camp. 

The next attempt was undertaken under better 
auspices and with complete success. From a camp in 
Paradise Valley they ascended to the pass between the 
summit and its offshoot, Pinnacle Mountain. This is 
about 9000 feet, and for 2000 more the climb was "merely 
a careful selection of gullies and scree slopes, with occa- 
sional rock climbing. 1 ... At a height of 11,000 feet 
we had a discussion as to the better route of two that 
appeared. One lay at our right and seemed easier, 
while the other probably lay to our left, and though it 
was concealed from view, the previous study of photo- 
graphs convinced me that this would be the better route, 
and it took some time for them to agree on that point. 
A short scramble among flat shales and very rough cliffs 
led us suddenly to the great south slope of the mountain, 
and we knew our prize was all but taken. At noon we 
reached the summit and stood at the highest point then 
reached in Canada." 

1 W. D. Wilcox, " The Rockies of Canada," p. 244. 



CHAPTER VII 

FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 

My happiest recollections of the Rockies centre 
round Field. The pleasant sojourn of a week in 1900 
led to its becoming my headquarters for the next two 
years. The little Chalet of the former seasons and the 
larger Hotel that now exists were alike pervaded with 
a home-like atmosphere due to the personality of Miss 
Mollison, who " made " Field as an abiding-place. 

Nestling close under the gigantic precipices of Mt 
Stephen, beset on either side by rugged mountain-crags, 
the little hamlet stands beside the eddying, glacial waters 
of the Kicking Horse River. Far up, the valley narrows 
to the Pass of the Divide ; far down, the mighty pyramids 
of the Van Home Range, their ruddy slopes streaked 
with snow and usually softened with deep purple 
shadows or wreathed in billowy clouds, complete the 
circle of majestic heights. 

"I lift my eyes, and ye are ever there, 
Wrapped in the folds of the imperial air, 
And crowned with the gold of morn or evening rare, 
O far blue hills." 

The scenic way to come to Field is from the east ; 
and by far the most satisfying method is on foot. My 

144 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 



145 



brother and I walked all the way from Lake Louise, 
some nineteen miles, and the whole distance is well 
worth seeing thus if one is equal to the lengthy tramp, 
though most of the earlier stages can be almost as well 




FIELD AND MT. STEPHEN 



appreciated from the train. But no one who can 
manage to walk six or seven miles downhill should miss 
the privilege of leisurely enjoying the succession of 
splendid pictures afforded on the way from Hector 
down to Field. 



i 4 6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

In journeying from Laggan, alternating with the 
retrospect of the ice-clad summits of Mts. Victoria, 
Lefroy and Temple, comes the glimpse up the broad 
valley of the Upper Bow, Mt. Hector prominent on the 
one side and the long escarpments of the Waputik 
mountains on the other. The wide fields of neve which 
clothe the massive shoulders of Mt. Balfour and Mt. 
Daly, breaking occasionally through the rampart walls, 
send forth many a glittering ice tongue into the dark 
forest world. Quite near the railroad track, one of the 
most important comes from the flanks of Mt. Daly, on 
our right as we traverse the gray wilderness of fire-swept 
forest that covers the entire region in the neighbourhood 
of the Great Divide. 

The curse of fire, alas, has devastated thousands of 
acres of the grand primeval forests of the Rockies. In 
place of the dark sweep of feathery firs and pines that 
once lent stately grandeur to the rugged peaks, whose 
base they thickly clothed and towards whose lofty pin- 
nacles they climbed with dauntless insistence, giving 
warmth and life and colour to the scene, now stands a 
countless host of bare, gaunt poles, mingled with black- 
ened stumps and hollow, burnt-out shells of former 
giants, blending with the barren limestone crags and 
boulders in a wide gray expanse of desolate uniformity. 

True, it has its picturesqueness, its weird beauty, its 
solemn majesty, but it is that of death, not life ; of gloom, 
not joyousness; of human inroad on the domain of Na- 
ture's paradise. Civilization has its drawbacks as well 
as its advantages. The careless trapper or prospector, 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 147 

the construction gang of railroad enterprise, have all 
contributed to the great change from Nature's un- 
touched glory to these too frequent scenes of desolation. 

These fires are one of the saddest features of the 
mountain districts. The ravages of the past are visible 
in almost every valley; and every year fresh areas of 
living green are being swept by the pitiless flames and 
left a melancholy wilderness. The ease with which a 
forest fire is started is astounding and only rivalled by 
the rapidity of its progress when once it gains a hold 
upon the trees, and by the extent of the destruction ere 
the blaze is quenched. A single lighted match thrown 
carelessly upon the ground, a shower of sparks from 
a passing locomotive, a camp-fire insufficiently extin- 
guished, may be the origin. And from this tiny cause, 
" how great a matter a little fire kindleth." 

The masses of thick moss which carpet much of the 
forest land will hold the smouldering sparks concealed 
for days, and sometimes weeks; but gradually and 
silently they creep and spread, until a breeze fans them 
one day into a flame. The resinous needles of the pines 
and spruces are touched, and in an instant the sudden 
blaze leaps into the sky with a hiss and roar like a dis- 
play of fireworks, and a tall tree becomes a giant torch 
of solid fire. Another and another follows till the hill- 
side or valley-bed is wrapped in flame. Vast columns 
of dense smoke arise, and, borne on the winds afar, ob- 
scure the light and obliterate the view for scores of 
miles around. The sun is hidden at mid-day and the 
giant peaks are blotted out. 



148 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

For weeks this gloomy pall will sometimes float 
through the valleys and across the mountain-tops, bear- 
ing the odour of the burning trees, and telling of the 
devastation of a wealth of scenery and many thousands 
of dollars' worth of valuable timber. 

To the traveller, particularly the explorer, surveyor, 
and photographer, the existence of a large fire is terribly 
disheartening. Little or nothing can be seen, and the 
camera is practically useless. During the summer of 
1 90 1, the latter portion of our sojourn in the Yoho 
Valley was very largely spoilt. Mt. Stephen at a distance 
of five or six miles was quite invisible, and the haze at 
the best of times was far too dense to give clear views of 
objects even close at hand ; yet the fire that caused the 
trouble was more than eighty miles distant in an air-line. 

Each summer adds its quota to the sorry tale ; some 
large, some small, but all bring melancholy ruin in their 
train, and spoil the holiday of many a nature-lover in 
addition to the serious depletion of the forest area. More 
care, however, is now exercised by campers, and one may 
reasonably hope that every season will witness a diminu- 
tion of the evil. The only consolation is, that those 
who have seen the utter devastation and felt the thrill of 
disappointment and sharp pang of pain that fills the 
heart as one passes through these tracts of desolation 
and of death, must realize with a new intensity and 
added power the wondrous charm of the feathery forest 
growth, which, in the plan of the Creator, decked these 
rugged mountain valleys, softened the terrors of the 
frowning precipice, encircled peaceful lakes with a price- 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 149 

less setting, and outlined in bold relief the sparkling 
torrent and the gleaming glacier. 

At the actual summit of the pass, 5296 feet above the 
sea, a rustic arch has been erected, through which flow 
— when there is any water! — two tiny rivulets, the off- 
spring of a single stream that takes its rise in the wild 
icy solitudes above. A few yards farther they diverge 
abruptly and, murmuring a soft farewell to one another, 
commence their infant pilgrimage towards the distant 
oceans where they finally will sink to rest. 

"From that cloud-curtained cradle, so cold and so lone, 
From the arms of that wintry-locked mother of stone, 
By hills hung with forests, through vales wide and free, 
Thy mountain-born brightness glanced down to the sea." 

After 3000 miles of rushing travel from the Atlantic 
seaboard, climbing steadily upward to the farthest 
source, we step across the little stream and face the 
sunset seas of the Pacific, with another trickling rivu- 
let at our feet, commencing here its downward course, 
which we must follow through its troubled, wild career. 

This is the Great Divide — the symbol of the turn- 
ing-point in man's career. A fraction of an inch to one 
side or the other at this " parting of the ways " deter- 
mines the future course of many a little drop ; thousands 
of miles sum up the distance of their goals. A moment 
in the balance, the slightest swerve, an influence almost 
imperceptible, and the decision is irrevocable ; the Divide 
is crossed, the current, now fast, now slow, carries it 
onward, ever farther from the other stream, for good or 
ill, until the end is reached. 



150 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Just on the Pacific side a little reedy lake reflects the 
mountains for a fleeting moment ; the downward grade 
begins, and in a couple of miles we arrive at Hector, 
named in recognition of the explorer who discovered this 
route across the watershed. A section-house and water- 
tank comprise the entire resources of the place. Wapta 
Lake, an almost circular sheet of the bluest water, usu- 
ally a perfect mirror, lies to our right ; a tumbling, tur- 
bulent cascade, the upper portion of the Kicking Horse, 
but here denominated Cataract Creek, flows in from the 
south, and points the way to beautiful O'Hara Lake, some 
eight miles distant by a good trail. This is the easiest 
way to reach that loveliest of lakes, but the approach, if 
possible, should be made by Abbot Pass, and this trail 
used as an exit only. 

The white shoulder of Mt. Victoria's northern peak 
is grandly visible above the creek ; right in front towers 
the north-eastern spur of the Cathedral massif (whose 
topmost pinnacles were in full view on the Divide), and 
at the base of these splendid ramparts a deep, sombre 
chasm opens beyond the outlet of the lake. This is the 
famous Canyon of the Kicking Horse, and its passage 
on foot should be one of the most sacred duties of every 
visitor who enjoys majestic scenery. Ample time is thus 
given to appreciate the exquisite views that render every 
step of the way delightful, and, though the train goes 
very slowly, occupying forty-five minutes for the seven 
miles, the artistic and nature-loving heart is always cry- 
ing out for time to stop and revel in the grandeur of the 
succession of new and peerless visions. The engineering 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 



151 



is of surpassing interest in itself. The gradient is one 
of, if not quite, the steepest on the Continent, averaging 
nearly 3 per cent, and reaching sometimes as much as 
200 feet in the mile. In the ascent three or four locomo- 
tives are usually employed, one being necessary for every 
three cars on the train ; and even then it is a strenuous 
climb, spasmodic puffs and the futile whirl of wheels 
that cannot grip being by no means an infrequent varia- 
tion from the steady powerful pant and throb of the giant 
engines. In the slow descent the greatest care is always 
exercised and the train kept under complete control. 
Three safety switches are also in readiness, at judicious 
intervals, in case of any tendency to run too fast. They 
are. kept always open, until a signal from the on-coming 
train that all is well permits them to be closed, so that a 
runaway, instead of rushing onward down the steep, sinu- 
ous track, would be diverted on to a straight stretch of 
rails and carried up a hill so sharply graded that the 
impetus would easily be checked and the flying train 
brought to a speedy standstill. It speaks well for the 
Company and the care exercised by the engineers that no 
passenger train has ever been obliged to have recourse 
to this extreme resort, or met with accident upon the 
"hill"; so that the most timid traveller may marvel at 
the thrilling triumphs of engineering skill and revel in 
the matchless scenery simultaneously without a qualm. 
Many and many a time have I luxuriated in the 
delights of this section of the route, from dawn to 
sunset, and under the moonlight's spell. By train — 
inside the coaches, in observation cars, upon the top of 



152 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

a freight car, on a flat car, in a locomotive's cab, or on 
the cow-catcher; also several times on foot. The last 
is the best of all (particularly when the raspberries are 
ripe), but the cow-catcher or the top of a box car is 
the choicest of propelling methods, unless one can get 
a ride on a hand-car or a speeder, with opportunity to 
slacken speed or stop whenever one desires. 

Passing through a cutting, we leave the Wapta Lake 
behind (best seen at sunset with the glowing hues 
of evening lighting up the distant range of the Slate 
Mountains, reflected in the pearl-gray, placid waters 
in their darksome setting of the night), and plunge 
downward beside the tearing river, its waters clear as 
crystal and shining with that wonderful translucent 
tinge of green that marks the stream of glacial origin. 
Its bright cascades, hemmed in by rocky barriers, are 
fringed with spruce and graceful underbrush, and above 
them tower the cliffs of the Cathedral Mountain. 

One afternoon, as we were slowly creeping upward 
past the almost continuous succession of foaming cata- 
racts and eddying rushes, a fellow-passenger inquired 
the name of this tumultuous and energetic river, and 
on being told " The Kicking Horse," chuckled with 
keen amusement and exclaimed, " Well, I guess that's 
about the fittest name a river ever got, for it's the 
darnedest style of bucking bronco that I ever ran 
across ! " The history of the title is, however, rather 
different and bears no reference to the fascinating char- 
acteristics of these upper reaches. In 1858 Dr ? Hector, 
probably the first white man who ever looked upon its 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 153 

waters, was journeying down the valley of the Beaver- 
foot, and arrived at its junction with an unknown river 
of considerable size, at a point close to the modern 
station of Leanchoil, some fourteen miles below Field. 
When camping there, the Doctor's horse became restive 
and kicked him violently on the chest, delaying the 
expedition for a day or two in consequence; and in 
memory of the incident, the men bestowed the name 
" Kicking Horse " upon the newly discovered river. 

Soon the sharp points of the Cathedral Spires appear, 
darting into the soft skies. What strangely weird little 
pinnacles they are ! so tiny and attenuated that it seems 
impossible that any one could scale their smooth, steep 
sides and reach their sharp aerial summits ; and yet we 
found quite a comfortable resting-place on the tip of one 
of them on a well-remembered September afternoon. 
Again the eventide is the finest time of day to see these 
gothic spires that nature has fashioned here on a colossal 
scale. Some fortunate circumstance enables the ruddy 
rays of the departing sun to break through the barrier 
of the western ranges and single out the towers and 
spires of this Cathedral of the Titans, amidst the general 
shades of night, for its superb illumination. Bathed in 
the glory of richest crimson colouring, each crag and 
pinnacle leaps like a fiery flame into the pale blue 
heavens. 

Just below the highest safety switch a graceful steel 
bridge spans the ravine and affords a striking view 
of the deep wooded chasm below, where the surging 
waters flash in foaming cataracts amidst the sombre 



154 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

foliage. Round the base of the Cathedral we swing; 
Mt. Stephen's massive dome, adorned by a little hang- 
ing-glacier, stands right ahead, and across the valley 
rise Mts. Field and Wapta, while to the right there 
gradually opens out the dark and wooded cleft of 
the Yoho Valley. 

Away at its head gleam the eternal snows of the 
great Wapta icefield ; the sharply pointed summit of Mt. 
Habel dominates the distant view, and a long tongue 
of glacier streams into the deep recesses of the verdant 
valley. This is the home of the far-famed Takakkaw 
Fall (the most imposing in the Rocky Mountains), the 
exquisite Twin Falls, and other beauties worth ten times 
the journey to behold. 

An outlying buttress of Mt. Stephen projects across 
the track. Far up, the galleries of a silver mine are 
seen, clinging to the bare walls of nature's masonry; far 
below, the valley widens to a broad shingle flat, through 
which the river winds meanderingly in a maze of tortu- 
ous channels. A moment in the shadows of a tiny 
tunnel, and the lower reaches of the Kicking Horse lie 
spread before our gaze, the shapely pyramids of the Van 
Home Range in the background, and Field immediately 
in front. 

Tramping along one August afternoon, in the year 
1900, hot and dusty after nearly twenty miles of walking, 
but well repaid by the feast of glorious scenery, the 
little Chalet looked delightfully cozy and comfortable 
to my brother and me the day we first approached its 
hospitable portals. Miss Mollison's pleasant greeting 



8SP 



eyto Lake 



Thompson 



Portal Peak \ } So ™ \ 



Mt.Baker 



< f 
Mt.Colli 

10,500 



lp«Jlomite Peak 






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\Yoho Peak \ y , )h \ :% » Pulpit Pk^ 1 

\ s.300 -. -,V7«.; ; ?- W.Balfour 

J3«4eJ .£. *» s , T \ril(),875 

ovp. * «,ooo, TMttinder 

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Mt.McMullen 




THE YOHO VALLEY REGTON 

From map by the Dominion Land Survey of Canada 

Author's Routes 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 



r 55 



made us feel at once " at home," as her tact and genial- 
ity invariably do, whoever the stranger may be. The 
domicile of " Scotland " in the Hotel register appealed 
to her national instincts, the offer of afternoon tea was 
gratefully accepted, and when real Scotch shortbread 
was produced for our especial delectation our hearts 
were won for good and all ! Thenceforward Field be- 
came my Rocky Mountain home. 

Field and Mt. Stephen are inseparable. That 
majestic summit soaring 6400 feet almost straight above 
the village is part and parcel of one's life at Field. The 
sojourner is never weary of gazing at its noble form, 
the same yet always different. Each month from sunny 
June to white December I have gazed at it. Always 
the same grand massive outline, yet each day, almost- 
each hour of the day, brings out some new effect. Sun- 
rise and sunset; brilliant noon and clear, calm night; 
sun, moon, and stars ; the thunder-storm ; soft, clinging 
cloudlets, or steely clearness, with all their variations, 
combinations, and contrasts, provide an ever changing 
series of wonderful, enchanting scenes. 

To mountaineers, of course, its appeal is irresistible. 
It captured us at once, and the first evening of our stay 
we made arrangements to climb it on the following day. 

Mt. Stephen is the most climbed mountain in the 
Canadian Switzerland; with Mt. Sir Donald, in the 
adjacent Selkirk Range, an easy second. This is but 
natural, they being the most impressive and the most 
accessible of the larger peaks along the railroad, and 
admirably situated for panoramic views. Of the two,. 



156 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Mt. Sir Donald is the more difficult, and provides un- 
doubtedly a finer and more interesting and varied climb; 
but both should be ascended and the intensely in- 
structive contrasts of the rival peaks and ranges, in for- 
mation, climbing opportunities, and environment, will 
more than adequately recompense the climber for the 




CATHEDRAL MOUNTAIN AND MT. STEPHEN 

double effort. The earliest record of an attempt to 
reach the proud summit of Mt. Stephen is inscribed 
upon a great cliff about 600 feet below the top, where in 
large black letters are painted the names of Hill, What- 
man, and Ross, with the date, September 6, 1886. 
These men are said to have been connected with the 
railroad ; but evidently the alpine character of the con- 
cluding portion of the peak proved too much for their 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 157 

powers, unprovided as they were with ice-axes or even 
alpenstocks. 

The first successful climb was made in the interests 
of science, by Mr. J. J. McArthur, of the Dominion 
Land Survey, to whose enterprise and energy so much 
of our knowledge of the country is due. Impressed 
with the importance of the mountain as a topographical 
station, he determined to brave the difficulties and 
dangers of the ascent. Insufficiently equipped though 
he and his companions were with proper mountaineer- 
ing implements, and unskilled in work amongst the 
realms of snow and ice, they persevered and overcame. 

Mr. Mc Arthur's accounts of his ascents in 1887 and 
1892 are amongst the most thrilling ever published in 
a Government report ; and though they sound exagger- 
ated to a practised mountaineer, the experiences of the 
party must have been both exciting and hazardous, 
armed only with alpenstocks and apparently without 
a rope. Starting from Field at 4.30 a.m. on September 
9th, 1887, they had to force their way through the bush 
and reached timber-line at half-past eight. Finding 
considerable difficulty amongst the rocks and screes 
extending from tree-line to the turreted walls of the final 
600 feet, and following a line which I find some diffi- 
culty in identifying but apparently a good deal more 
troublesome than by the regular slope that forms the 
sky-line as the mountain is observed from Field, they 
eventually arrived at the lofty cliff, where they discov- 
ered the names of their predecessors. 

Here the character of the climb changes entirely. 



158 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

From a scramble, fatiguing perhaps from the loose scree 
and rotten rock, but perfectly simple, one turns to formi- 
dable cliffs and icy gullies. The dangers are by no 
means few or far between for ropeless, axeless, inexperi- 
enced men. First came a hundred feet of extremely 
steep ice, pouring down between precipitous rocky walls e 
" Foot by foot," writes Mr„ McArthur, 1 " we worked our 
way, cutting steps with our alpenstocks, and in time 
reached the ledge of rock and looked back down the 
perilous slope. A slip on this glare surface meant death, 
and how we were to get down again caused us no little 
anxiety. Crawling along dangerous ledges and up 
steep narrow gorges we poked our way, expecting at 
every turn that one of the perpendicular walls would 
finally stop us with its impassable front. At last we 
reached the top of what we had judged from below 
to be the highest point of the mountain. We were 
not a little disheartened to see looming ahead of us 
another wall several hundred feet high. We moved 
along the broken ridge, and when almost at the foot 
of the wall we came to a deep chasm, which was the top 
of the ice-gorge up which we had already cut our way. 
The distance across was about three feet, and immedi- 
ately opposite rose the perpendicular face from a narrow 
ledge. Leaving our alpenstocks behind, we stepped 
across and with face to the wall moved along the ledge 
to a slanting rift, up which we clambered, our entire 
weight sometimes dependent on the first joints of our 
fingers. After a perilous climb of about a hundred feet 

1 D. L. S. Report for the year 1887. 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 159 

we reached a de&rzs-covered slope leading to the top of 
the ridge. . . . The top of this ridge was like a much- 
broken wall, in some places not more than three feet 
wide and descending in perpendicular sides, sometimes 
forty feet, to the steep slopes of the ridge. It required 
all our nerve to crawl about one-eighth of a mile along 
on the top of these half-balanced masses to the highest 
point on Mt. Stephen, 6385 feet above the railway track." 

Nine hours had elapsed during the ascent, and after 
an hour more on the summit the party commenced 
the return journey, and fortunately found the difficul- 
ties of the descent far less than had been anticipated. 
Timber-line was gained by 6 p.m., and they were back 
in camp an hour and a half later, the entire climb 
having occupied fifteen hours. 

In 1892 Mr. Mc Arthur desired again to occupy his 
station on Mt. Stephen, and on August 30th ascended 
to a camp near tree-line, in order to give him a longer 
stay upon the summit. Next morning he and his 
assistant were off at seven o'clock, carrying a flag and a 
fifteen-foot pole to plant upon the summit The route 
followed was practically the same as on the first occa- 
sion, but a surprise awaited Mr. McArthur on his 
arrival at the icy gorge, which was a source of so 
much difficulty then. Fully 200,000 cubic feet of rock, 
according to his estimate, had fallen into the amphi- 
theatre below, and in consequence they were able to 
climb up easy rocks instead of an ice-staircase. " The 
ridge," by his account, 1 " must be at least twenty feet 

1 D. L. S. Report for the year 1892. 



160 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

lower than at the time of my former visit, and where 
at that time we had but to step across a narrow chasm 
on to a ledge, we had now to reach the ledge up an 
almost perpendicular wall, and it seemed at one time 
that we were to be balked ; but with the help of my 
assistant and the long flag-pole I managed to sur- 
mount it, and then pulled my assistant up with the 
rope." This time five hours from timber-line sufficed 
for the ascent, and the return was also far more rapid 
than in 1887. 

In 1894 Mr. R. F. Curtis and Professor Fay made 
the first attempt from the mountaineering point of view, 
pur et simple. Time, aided by missing the path to the 
fossil-beds, was principally responsible for the result 
of a compulsory return after the marked rock had been 
attained. But the following year, reenforced by other 
members of the Appalachian Mountain Club, a fresh 
assault was made. In spite of the previous repulse 
and the fact that two ladies were included in the party, 
a start was not made till half-past eight, and one is 
continually struck by the astonishingly late hours in- 
dulged in at these early times. 

Thus it was 4.30 before the cliff was reached where 
the real climbing may be said to begin. It was soon 
judged quite impossible to get the whole party to 
the top before night. So Mr. Curtis and the ladies 
returned, while Messrs. Abbot, Fay, Field, and Thomp- 
son proceeded to the final task. This occupied two 
hours more, and nearly the same time was required 
for the descent, so that it was 10.30 when they reached 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 161 

the floor of the amphitheatre, and midnight had passed 
when their camp at tree-line welcomed the belated 
mountaineers. 

Though this attempt on the part of the fair sex to 
set their foot upon the summit was disappointed, the 
feat was successfully accomplished by Miss Vaux, of 
Philadelphia, in 1900, who thereby gained the distinc- 
tion of being the first lady to ascend a mountain over 
10,000 feet high in Canada. 

Although already several times ascended, Mt. Stephen 
lacked nothing in interest to us, who were yearning for 
another panorama to fit on to those already seen from 
Cascade Mountain and Mt. Victoria. 

In view of the past records, the great length of time 
occupied by every party, and the reputed difficulty of 
the last 600 feet, we resolved to get off as early as a 
September day would allow of. The " best on record " 
was seven hours from the Hotel ; we wanted time to 
explore the fossil-beds, plenty of leisure on the top, and 
the advantages of a morning view. 

Modern conditions with a trail for more than 2000 
feet simplify the earlier stages immensely, and Christian 
Hasler, our guide, led us upward at a good, steady pace. 
In about an hour and a half we reached one of the most 
interesting places in the Rockies. An extensive bed 
of fossil trilobites is here exposed on the flank of the 
mountain, nearly at timber-line, and myriads of speci- 
mens strew the ground for a considerable area. One 
cannot avoid trampling on hundreds of them, and one 
can sit down and pick up dozens without changing his 



i62 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

position. Many are visible at once, staring us in the 
face, whilst any of the countless slabs around can be 
easily split up and numbers of these wonderful relics 
of a prehistoric age displayed. Large and small, singly 
and clustered close together, perfect specimens are there 
in millions for the taking. 

Thenceforward the march is more laborious, follow- 
ing the long, straight ridge that forms the sky-line as we 
face Mt. Stephen from below. Ledges and rocky stair- 
ways, a short expanse of what Professor Fay graphically 
describes as a " stone lawn," 1 and long, tiresome slopes of 
sliding debris, are in turn surmounted, and just four 
hours have elapsed when the marked rock is reached, 
nearly 6000 feet above the toy-like village and shining 
thread of railroad track. 

Here Christian counsels a halt for a second break- 
fast before tackling the bit of climbing. I object. The 
weather, from a cloudless sunrise, is looking most unin- 
viting. Mists are gathering on the mountain-sides and 
so rapidly advancing that I want to hurry on and get 
the view before it is blotted out. " Surely six hundred 
feet cannot take us long," I urge, "and we can break- 
fast on the top." " But it will take two hours," replies 
Christian. " Oh, nonsense, that is far too long for us," 
is my rejoinder, " I know that is the popular estimate, 
but we don't intend to take half that time." However, 

1 Professor Fay's description cannot be improved on. He says : " From 
one-half an inch to an inch above the surface rose thin laminae of shale, per- 
haps a millimetre in thickness, and from one-eighth to one-third of an inch 
apart, of varying lengths yet none of many inches, giving with their light and 
shade a general effect of dry grass, and breaking down under our footsteps." 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 163 

an hour and a half was the utmost limit that he would 
allow, and it was much better, he considered, to halt at 
once. Weakly I gave in and consented to remain. We 
wasted a precious thirty minutes at the base of the 
cliff (although we certainly were able to enjoy magnifi- 
cently so much of the view as could be seen from this 
elevation, including almost as much to the west, south, 
and north as from the summit), and then we com- 
menced the " terrors " of the " dangerous " part. The 
glare ice-slope does need step-cutting when it happens 
to be in bad condition, but it was preferable to the 
rocks just then: various ledges demanded care: one 
or two long strides and a rock scramble or two came 
in, and the limestone was, of course, extremely frail. 
But, including the steps, it only took thirty-five minutes, 
and we did not hurry at all ! 

Nevertheless, the halt had done the mischief. The 
driving mists enveloped us in an impenetrable cloud be- 
fore the top was gained ; and, though we obtained weird, 
shining glimpses of peak, and glacier, and valley, in a 
shifting frame of whirling cloud, as the strong wind 
opened a window here and there for us to get a tanta- 
lizing, momentary peep, the panorama was extinguished. 
After waiting more than a full chill hour on the nar- 
row crest, covered with heavy snow, no better fate was 
granted, and we were forced to beat a sorrowful retreat. 

Something, however, had been seen. The strikingly 
majestic pyramid of Mt. Assiniboine was visible in the far 
distance, and the Ottertails, particularly the magnificent 
three-headed mass of Mt. Goodsir, were extremely grand ; 



1 64 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and all the nearer mountains, wreathed with fleecy mists, 
and flecked with light and shade, displayed their rugged 
forms and richest colouring to the best advantage. 

In the descent, instead of taking exactly the same 
route, we followed down the ice-gorge, soon finding snow 
that we could traverse fairly fast and hurrying helter- 
skelter into the depths of the huge cirque of rocks to 
the south-east of the summit The walls that stretch 
across the eastern side are very striking in their per- 
pendicularity and form a noble rampart facing the less 
vertical, though steep and rocky, cliffs of the main peak, 
scored by ice-filled gullies and glistening with frozen snow. 

No sooner had we got a few hundred feet below the 
top than we emerged from the obnoxious mists and en- 
joyed sunshine and warmth all the remainder of the day, 
though the great peaks were wrapped continuously in 
the gathering clouds. In the hollow we spent some 
time in an interesting search for crystals, which are to 
be found in great abundance, and some are really fine, 
though most are small and closely clustered. It is quite 
a neighbourhood for crystals. A cavern, just above the 
track, a mile or two from Field on the flank of Mt. 
Stephen, was a famous resort for some time, owing to the 
quantity and beauty of its crystals, until the place was 
blown up and completely ruined in an attempt to break 
away the sparkling masses. The greater number are 
yellow or clouded, but mauve and reddish ones are also 
to be found. I had the good fortune to obtain a speci- 
men on the slopes of Cathedral Mountain which was said 
to be the finest seen there of late, and was honoured by 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 165 

permission to present it to H. R. H. the Princess of 
Wales, as a memento of her visit to the mountains. 

A further prolonged stay at the fossil-beds helped to 
make our nick-sacks tremendously heavy for the rest of 
the downward journey, which was concluded at a tem- 
pestuous pace, and we were back in the Hotel by 2 p.m., 
our actual time while on the move amounting to four 
and a half hours up and two hours down. 

The result was terribly disappointing, both as regards 
the view, which, however, remains magnificent if only a 
fine day is secured, and, particularly, as to the climb. Pre- 
vious narratives had led us to expect some stiff climbing, 
especially on the upper part, which we hoped would be 
really first-class, but the whole climb turned out to be 
absolutely simple for practised mountaineers, with or 
without a guide. The rock, of course, is rotten ; the ice 
conditions may often be rather troublesome, and certain 
points undoubtedly are likely to be trying and even 
alarming for the inexperienced ; but with a rope and axe 
and a guide or first-class amateur, there is no danger for 
even a beginner. 

The ascent on a fine day will always be worth while, 
as the position of the mountain is admirable, the climb, 
though somewhat laborious and monotonous in parts, is 
short and easy, the start is made from a comfortable 
hotel, and varied geological interests are thrown in. 

The weather during our first stay at Field was most 
unsettled. We snatched a charming day for a walk to 
the Yoho Valley, to see the splendid Fall. Of course 
we visited the Natural Bridsre, which is less than three 



166 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

miles away, and which is a highly interesting phenome- 
non, besides being situated in most picturesque surround- 
ings with Mt. Stephen as a superb background. The 
bridge is formed by the wearing of a narrow archway 




THE NATURAL BRIDGE 



through a massive wall of rock, which stretches right 
across the river-bed, and the whole volume of the Kick- 
ing Horse foams through the contracted orifice in this 
mighty barrier with tremendous force and a fine display 
of lashing spray and turbulent disorder. 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 167 

Barely two furlongs farther, the harassed river enters 
a narrow canyon, down which, with tortuous course and 
several thundering cascades, it tears its way between 
constraining cliffs, presenting a succession of effective 
" bits " to wanderers above on either bank. 

The enchanting walk by the left bank of the river is, 
alas, largely spoiled by the new course of the railway. 
Although the farther wooded bank and the surrounding 
mountains abide unchanged and ever beautiful, the ex- 
quisite foreground has been torn and mutilated by pick 
and dynamite, trees have been overthrown by hundreds, 
and picturesque promontories defaced by cuttings ; bal- 
last and steel rails now take the place of a winding wood- 
land path, and piles of debris that of shrubs and ferns and 
flowers. Thus has the picturesque to pay toll to the re- 
quirements of modern travel. I am glad I saw it and 
enjoyed it over and over again in the old days, for it was 
one of the loveliest walks in the whole mountain region. 

But we had one other climbing ambition to fulfil 
during this first brief stay at Field, and that was to attack 
the delicately graceful spires of Cathedral Mountain and 
try to reach their topmost pinnacle. An attempt had 
been made earlier in the season by Professor Arthur 
Michael and Mr. J. Henry Scattergood, with Christian 
Hasler. After an arduous and lengthy climb in shock- 
ing weather, they were compelled to turn back, owing to 
the lateness of the hour, only a few score feet below the 
summit, having reached a position where they could 
see no feasible way of getting up the final cliff, which, 
towered absolutely perpendicularly above. 



1 68 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

We, too, were nearly frustrated in our desire, through 
an unfortunate misunderstanding. Our stipulated week 
was up, and the weather had prevented any climbing 
since our Mt. Stephen expedition; but a more promising 
appearance the last evening decided us to stay one fur- 
ther day if there was any chance of success. So we gave 
instructions that if the following morning were fine, we 
should be called at dawn and try the peak ; but if it were 
wet, we would go on to Glacier. Between the two stools 
we fell. It was a glorious morning, but the message 
had got mixed and Hasler imagined that we were going 
away in any case ; so when I woke about seven and found 
the sky cloudlessly brilliant, my disappointment may be 
imagined. 

Coming down to breakfast, I discussed the matter 
with my brother and the guide, and wished to try the 
climb, however late. But Hasler stood firm, and in spite 
of our Mt. Stephen precedent demurred. The previous 
attempt had been frustrated largely by a late start (7.30) ; 
we could not possibly get off till nine, and to be beaten 
twice on the same mountain was not on Hasler's pro- 
gramme. Consequently my brother and I went in to 
breakfast and ordered lunches to be prepared, intending 
to go ahead without a guide. When this rumour filtered 
through the kitchen and reached Hasler's ears, he at once 
reconsidered his position and reported himself as ready 
to come along, despite the hopeless prospect. 

So at last we got away. It was nine o'clock and a 
cruelly hot day for rapid going ; but needs must and a 
good pace was set. Three and a half miles up the 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 169 

railroad track to a point some five hundred feet above 
Field was the first instalment, and then came a rough 
scramble up the rocky sides of the mountain's base, 
through thickets of undergrowth, up stony gullies, clam- 
bering over boulders and charred fallen logs, till we 
reached a loose expanse of debris, the result of the con- 
stant erosion and disintegration of the limestone fabric 
that now towered like a titanic gothic facade high into 
the Italian azure of the sky. This was a weary bit of 
pilgrimage, but soon we got to the lower edge of a 
narrow glacier tongue, protruding at a tremendously 
steep angle from a snow-field above, between two close 
and lofty cliffs. 

The Cathedral Mountain is a large triangular mass, 
filling the area between the valleys of Cataract Creek 
and the Kicking Horse. It has three main summits, 
besides numerous outlying spurs. The loftiest peak 
lies to the south-east and is invisible from the railroad 
after the watershed is crossed. The " Spires," so con- 
spicuous as one descends the hill from Hector, form the 
north-western corner of the massif, and a long buttress 
ridge projects from them towards the Great Divide. 
The Spires, our objective point, are undoubtedly the 
most fascinating of the three chief points, both from 
a structural and mountaineering point of view, hence 
their selection by the previous party and our own. 

Our route lay up the small glacier that separates the 
Spires from the northern outpost. It led round to the 
northern face of the peak, by which side alone access 
to the top seems possible. The former climbers, having 



i 7 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

scaled a steep gully to the ridge east of the pinnacles, 
had to make their way to the northern side in order to 
attempt the final problem. 

The ice was steep, slippery, and very hard, so Hasler 
had plenty of work for his ice-axe, until we got well 
under the grand cliffs between which the ice-tongue has 
forced its way. Bearing to the right, we kept close to 
the wall, occasionally making a detour on ledges or 
slopes of debris. We halted finally on one of these 
ledges for lunch, and then worked diagonally across a 
shoulder of the glacier, finding easier slopes beyond and 
being able to abandon step-cutting altogether. 

Up the neve we circled round to the base of the final 
pinnacles, having a great advantage over our predecessors 
in facing the rocks we had to climb, and we were able to 
make a careful study of their difficulties. Two or three 
variations seemed fully practicable, and it was evident 
that the ascent was assured, and ample time remained. 
A few moments were permitted for breath, after a stiff 
snow pull to the foot of the rocks, and we then enjoyed 
an agreeable change from the somewhat monotonous 
ice and snow grind to the really interesting scramble 
up the rock face. 

Although, of course, the limestone was extremely 
friable and called for constant caution, and some of the 
straight-up rocks, narrow ledge traverses, buttresses, and 
knife-edge ridges gave us an opportunity to exercise our 
muscles, skill, and experience, I was usually able to fol- 
low very closely in my brother's wake and to keep mov- 
ing all the time. 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN i 7 i 

The actual summit is more like a gigantic wall than 
anything else, sheer for about eighty feet on the west side, 
beyond which a twin wall rises at a few feet distance, 
equally sheer and almost of identical height. The pin- 
nacle, none too large or massive at the outset, seems to 
have been riven from end to end to form this long, deep 
chasm. Our wall was often less than a yard wide near 
the top, constructed of nearly horizontal strata, the slabs 
of which were mostly loose. It was broken down in 
irregular steps at the eastern end, by which we ap- 
proached, and provided a simple route, though balanc- 
ing had to be resorted to occasionally. 

Seated on our narrow perch, we could hang a leg 
over on either side and comfortably enjoy the extensive 
panorama. Being only 10,100 feet high, our view was 
partly cut off by Mt. Stephen and the main Cathedral 
peak, respectively 400 and 180 feet loftier, but the 
Ottertails and Lake Louise peaks were strikingly effec- 
tive, and the vista up the Yoho Valley to the glaciers 
and mountains circling round its head, together with the 
tremendous drop from our aerial position into the depths 
of the canyon of the Kicking Horse between, was par- 
ticularly beautiful and impressive. 

Time would not wait to let us make the higher sum- 
mit to the east, or even allow of more than an all too 
brief stay at our present resting-place. Soon we were 
off again on a very quick descent, taking only a few 
minutes to the rock-base, and barely an hour to the end 
of the glacier. A perfectly exquisite sunset lit up with 
crimson flame the whole facade of the Cathedral from 



1 72 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

base to topmost pinnacle, illuminating each detail of its 
sculptured buttresses and towers and spires with rich- 
est splendour, and leaving a glorious picture indelibly 
impressed upon our memories as we hurried down 
the rocky and timbered slopes to the railroad track. 

Darkness overtook us shortly before reaching Field, 
but we arrived at seven o'clock in splendid spirits, well 
pleased with our hurried but most successful dash. 

A year later, after returning with Mr. Whymper 
from the Yoho Valley, I had the opportunity of finishing 
off my exploration of Cathedral Mountain, by a traverse 
from Field to Hector by way of the highest peak. In 
company with two of Mr. Whymper's guides, Klucker 
and Bossoney, I left Field at 5.25 on the 26th of Au- 
gust, 1 90 1. We followed up the railroad track for over 
an hour, going considerably too far, owing to some 
advice by Mr. Whymper, given by mistake, and had to 
work back as well as upward until we struck the arete 
descending to the west, at an altitude of 7000 feet, the 
time then being eight o'clock. Looking up at the great 
southern precipices, I was much struck by the varied 
and brilliant colouring of much of the rock. Yellow 
prevailed, but it was banded by reddish, olive-green, and 
dark slate strata, and some of the cliffs were absolutely 
black. Disintegration is proceeding at a rapid rate, falls 
of rock, tons at a time, occurring at intervals during our 
climb. These masses appear usually to break away from 
the sheer faces in relays, commencing at the base, so 
that enormous canopies of rock overhang, one above 
another, and the actual summit projected several feet 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 173 

beyond the foot of the southern wall. The weather 
causes also a good deal of erosion, resulting in numer- 
ous sharp ridges and gendarmes, giving an appearance 
similar to the dolomites. 




CATHEDRAL SPIRES 
From Cathedral Mountain 



The quantity of debris accumulated on the lower 
slopes, which we now had to traverse, was enormous and 
extremely loose: rolling stones and boulders, sliding 
scree and shifting shale, made progress slow, erratic, and 
intensely wearisome, as well as cruel for our boots. In 
time, however, it was accomplished, and, having passed 
the couloir by which Professor Michael's party had 
ascended towards the Spires, we turned up the last gully 
before the sheer cliffs of the main summit. This was 
filled with snow and ice and debris, not to speak of a 



174 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

cascade at one point, which we had to avoid by a small 
traverse and scramble on the rocks at its side. Steps 
were necessary at times, but on the whole we made good 
progress and scrambled to the top of the couloir by half- 
past ten. We found ourselves on the ridge connecting 
the chief peak with the Spires, which looked extremely 
well from here, although only rising seven or eight hun- 
dred feet above the broad glacier which sweeps from the 
long arete towards the west (the tongue of our previous 
ascent) and the north-east. 

Swinging round to the right, we mounted by narrow 
snow aretes to the highest point (10,284 feet) in thirty- 
five minutes more. The summit is a small one, covered 
with fragments of broken rock, with its south-western 
rim overhanging, and a short, gentle slope on the other 
side, falling away sharply a short distance down. One 
strange feature of this shaly surface was the forming of 
two or three circular basins and channels, the former 
four to five feet in diameter and sinking symmetrically to 
a depth of two feet or more. One was only six feet from 
the overhanging edge. They appeared to be caused by 
the splitting of the rock beneath, forming a cavity, down 
which the debris was working its way as in a funnel. It 
made one meditate on the transient nature of the actual 
summit, and, taken in conjunction with the repeated 
rock-falls, renders it highly probable that the form and 
height of the mountain may be altered considerably 
every year, and that a tremendous smash may one day 
change its character at one fell swoop. 

The view was of great interest, especially (to me) in 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 



i75 



the bird's-eye panorama of the valleys to the south ; both 
were studded with bright lakelets, O'Hara Lake seeming 
to be the largest, but in the nearer valley, between Mt. 
Odaray and us, I counted eight beautiful little sheets 
of water, mostly set in trees and verdure, making the 
valley a most attractive spot. 

We remained two hours on the top, and at 1.10 
retraced our steps as far as the large eastern glacier. 
This we descended in the direction of Hector station, 
leaving the ice (2000 feet below the summit), in forty 
minutes ; and, after a quick trot through the timber, we 
struck the Cataract Creek trail at 2.40, and were at 
Hector thirty-five minutes later. 

Having plenty of time, I took the opportunity of 
going down the hill on foot : it cannot be too often done. 
All the way down it was exquisite, the colouring mag- 
nificent and the views superb. We travelled at our 
leisure and spent a good twenty minutes indulging in 
a bountiful feast of raspberries, which live and appear 
to flourish amongst the cinders and coal-dust that 
smother the track and its vicinity. They are, at any 
rate, famous for their size, abundance and superior 
flavour, and they were most acceptable to us after our 
long and rapid climb. Eventually we arrived back at 
our quarters at the Mt. Stephen House at 5.45. 

Minor climbs and expeditions, some new, some old, 
but all enjoyable, and many repeated with small varia- 
tions over and over again, abound in the neighbourhood 
of Field and have given me exercise and interest during 
sundry weeks at various seasons that I have spent at 



176 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

my beloved headquarters, alternating with the develop- 
ment of photographs. None of these merit a prolonged 
description, but one or two notes about some of them 
may be of passing interest. 

One of the first was a " training walk " with Professor 
Fay and Hasler, preparatory to our Ottertail expedition. 
We climbed to Burgess Pass, the most enchanting of 
the smaller trips, scrambled up the shaly flank of Mt. 
Field, and, crossing the ridge, descended directly into 
the Yoho Valley. It had been our intention to try Mt 
Wapta, but the weather emphatically forbade such a 
proceeding, and heavy rain caught us on the crest and 
followed us most of the way back. The descent was 
abrupt, enlivened by some glissades, in the course of 
one of which the feet of a distinguished member of the 
party sank in too deeply, halted that end of his anatomy 
with startling suddenness, whilst gravitation caused the 
upper being to continue the descent, with the result of 
a plunge headforemost in the snow and a complete som- 
ersault of transcendent grace, which would have done 
credit to a professional performer. 

Farther down, we encountered thick woods and a 
dense undergrowth (which is often designated by the 
expressive term " shin-tangle "), and, as every leaf was 
dripping with the heavy rain, we soon were saturated 
from head to foot and had a rough, wet march down 
the valley, which is blocked with huge masses of rock 
as well as fallen trees, both covered largely with moss,, 
apt to scale off and cause a sudden fall. The uncovered 
boulders and rocks were slippery with rain, and progress 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 177 

was pretty hard work. Keeping well to the right, where 
the Yoho stream makes a wide detour we rounded the 
long, rocky spur of Mt. Field and reached the Kicking 
Horse a little way above " Silver City." 

This imposing name was given to the two or three 
shacks which formed the habitat of the miners when 
the silver mines of Mt. Stephen were being worked, 
but at present both mines and city are left desolate. 
We crossed the river by a dilapidated and insecure log 
bridge, struck the railroad just above the tunnel, and 
returned home by the track. But the walk or ride on 
the opposite bank of the river is one of the most charm- 
ing round Field. In the older, wilder days it was fairly 
rough, trackless in places, and frequently under water 
in sections, hence our preferring the other route; but 
now a carriage road has been constructed all the way, 
entirely on the level, and the views of Mt. Stephen and 
the Cathedral are extremely fine, by far the grandest 
obtainable without considerable climbing. 

A fortnight after this futile attempt to reach Mt 
Wapta, Mr. Scattergood, Christian Bohren and I set 
off one glorious morning to have a good long day in 
the vicinity of Emerald Lake, incidentally including 
the aforesaid peak. We got it all : Mt. Wapta, and the 
day, very good and very long. We were lazy in the 
start and only got off at 9 a.m., but climbed apace, 
arrived at Burgess Pass at 11.05 and luxuriated in the 
inspiring view of Emerald Lake in its mountain and 
forest setting. Being in a comprehensive frame of 
mind, I suggested that we might have lunch on the 



178 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

top of Mt. Field and add its quota of scenery to the 
day's menu. The steep, shaly slopes are most fatiguing, 
the screes slip and slide beneath one's feet, and it took 
forty minutes of really hard work to reach the more 
solid rocks near the top, where we arrived at one 
o'clock. The view of the peaks across the Kicking 
Horse is intensely imposing from this point. The 
summit is almost sheer above the river-bed, about 5000 
feet below, and the great walls and precipices of Mt. 
Stephen face us across this giant chasm and tower 
another 1500 feet above our elevation. 

After lunch and an hour's halt, we made our way 
along the ridge towards Mt. Wapta, looking for a feasible 
line of ascent in the precipitous cliffs of the latter. 
The walls facing us offered no inducement, so we skirted 
their base on the southern side until we came to a 
couloir, which might possibly provide a way to the top. 
We started up a slope of old snow, which gradually 
became steeper and icier; so we roped up and, by 
rocks and ice, with some step-cutting, worked up 200 
feet or so, when the direct route became impracticable, 
sheer walls lining the gully beyond. Seeking a way of 
escape, we turned along a ledge to our right and tried 
a chimney. This would have been all right, if a young 
waterfall had not been making use of the same passage 
that afternoon. I urged going on, in spite of the cas- 
cade, being out of the reach of the water at the time, 
but the other two, finding it cold and damp, besought 
an investigation first, in case a better way existed. 
Bearing still farther to the right, we worried round an 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN. 179 

awkward buttress and were fortunate in finding a broad 
and dry couloir running directly to the summit of the 
cliff belt, with no real obstacles en route. 

Gaining the slope of loose talus that crowns the wall, 
we pushed rapidly upward to the second belt of cliffs, 
below the actual apex. Two or three ways up this are 
possible, for we examined its entire length ; that from 
the near corner being most direct, but under certain 
conditions none too easy. So we preferred, as time was 
getting on, to traverse along about half the length of 
the wall, then, taking to a narrow ledge, with one or 
two objectionable corners to wriggle round, we gained 
the eastern extremity of the final ridge and travelled up 
the jagged crest to the tiny rocky apex. Time, 4.55, an 
hour and forty minutes from the bottom of the couloir. 

Here, what a view was ours ! The mountain, 
though little over 9000 feet, is admirably placed and 
commands a superb panorama ; the Emerald Lake and, 
above all, the Yoho Valley affording an admirable con- 
trast of colouring and life to the wide chaos of peaks 
and glaciers that surround us on every side. For a 
bird's-eye view of the Yoho Valley, Wapta Peak is prob- 
ably unsurpassed, though striking views are within my 
own experience to be obtained from several points, 
notably Cathedral Spires and Angle Peak. Certainly 
the picture of the green alps and sombre forests, the 
stream and waterfalls, little lakes and glaciers, and the 
entourage of mighty cliffs, is most entrancing. 

The limitations of time demanded only a short stay, 
and by 5.20 we were off, descending quickly to the talus 



180 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and romping down the snow-slopes, scree, and grass of 
a large amphitheatre which opens towards the President 
Group. Striking across country, through bushes and 
forest, — a laborious undertaking, — we struck the Yoho 
trail at 6.45, and in an hour arrived at the shacks at the 
lower end of Emerald Lake. The sunset visions as we 





Mt. Habel 


Yoho Peak 


Mt. Collie 


Mt. Gordon 


Mt. Balfour 


*> 










***>JU~ -*S 


.,,. - 






k?-^EL 




fift^H 










'^ 


P^^* 
























Wm.' . ' 5 . 


^r^^^ t 


- ; 








IP f- ~"' ' 


"', 





THE YOHO VALLEY 

strolled along the water's edge, with all the glories of a 
sky lit up by the most vivid gold and crimson hues, the 
framework of dark precipice and forest slopes, and the 
unrippled mirror of the glowing lake, were like a peep 
into fairy-land. 

Arriving at the shacks, some friends, who were stay- 
ing the night en route for the Yoho Valley, refreshed 
us with bread and jam and tea, and we wound up 
with a charming walk in the gloaming and the moonlight 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 181 

through the solemn aisles and avenues of pines and 
balsams, reaching Field at 10 p.m. 

Two months later, on September 24th, I again ascended 
Wapta Peak, with Mr. Whymper, Hasler and Bohren, 
mercurial, cameras and theodolite. This time we started 
from the shacks, reversing our previous route and going 
up by the amphitheatre. We descended this way, too, 
and went to Field by Burgess Pass. On this occasion 
the beauty of the scene was greatly enhanced by freshly 
fallen snow, which mantled the upper world, and by a 
magnificent show of clouds just clearing the peaks and 
piled in all directions like gigantic, snowy billows. 

Mt. Burgess and Mt. Dennis were among the. smaller 
climbs, both easy but possessing delightful views, espe- 
cially as one gets to know better and better each detail of 
the region and so many of the peaks both far and near. 
On the former I was on one occasion compelled, much 
against my will, to take a rough and highly objectionable 
route on my way down. When on the summit, I acci- 
dentally dislodged my camera case from its resting-place, 
and it started on an impetuous descent by increasing 
leaps and bounds of the most violent description. Select- 
ing a steep gully in the direction of Mt. Stephen, it 
disappeared from my view, and, though I had intended 
crossing the mountain to Emerald Lake, I was perforce 
obliged to go to its rescue. It was discovered more than 
1000 feet down, none the worse for its adventure, except 
for a few small scratches ; but I was too lazy to climb up 
again and, in my attempts to get to the base of the pre- 
cipitous cliffs in the line indicated by the truant case, 



182 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

a particularly interesting scramble resulted, with several 
considerable problems ; but, eventually, sundry cracks 
and ledges, gullies and chimneys, were discovered in 
various directions, and by twisting here and making a 
detour there, the Burgess Pass trail was reached and 
Field regained in safety. 

The route up Mt. Dennis from the railroad about 
two miles from Field is simple ; but I had quite a climb 
one bright but cold October day trying it from Dennis 
Pass, between that mountain and Mt. Stephen. Earlier 
in the season traverses of ledges would in all probability 
enable one to make the ascent without difficulty, but 
when I was there ice and snow were prevalent. The 
ledges, sloping and treacherous with snow-covered debris, 
were far too dangerous for a lone man, and my progress, 
an exhilarating one by the sky-line, was checked by an 
overhanging cliff, which could be turned only on the face, 
where these hazardous ledges formed the only way. 

The same day, however, I reconnoitred a second 
pass, named after the late Mr. E. J. Duchesnay, which 
gave me a delightful trip a few days later. Dennis 
Pass, by itself, is of no real value, as it only leads into 
the narrow valley of Boulder Creek, and brings one 
down to the railroad track about four miles beyond the 
starting-point, but in combination with the farther col 
it makes an interesting and direct mountain approach 
to Lake O'Hara from Field. 

I cannot let the name of Mr. Duchesnay pass without 
my mite of tribute to his memory. Field and he are 
inseparably connected in the minds of all who have wit- 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 183 

nessed or enjoyed the development of the beauties of the 
vicinity, and especially of those who had the immense 
privilege of meeting him there in 1 900-1 901. No book 
on the Rockies could be complete without a reference 
to him. 

To him are chiefly due not merely the facilities for 
reaching the places of interest, but also the inestimable 
advantages that result from the fact that an artist's eye 
as well as a master's hand was at work in laying out the 
trails and selecting points of view and sites for chalets. 
His love of nature and genius for grasping in an instant 
the picturesque and practical advantages together, were 
only equalled by the enthusiasm which inspired him and 
with which he infected all with whom he came in con- 
tact, be he visitor or labourer ; and his kindly geniality 
and courtly gentleness and readiness to help, advise, or 
serve, were particularly attractive traits in his simple, 
noble character. 

Apart from his high merits as a civil engineer, apart 
from the heritage he left in the opportunities to enjoy 
the beauties of the neighbourhood, as a worker, keen, 
conscientious, full of energy, one could not but admire 
him ; but, better still, as a man, a Christian, gentleman, 
and friend, he inspired a deep and lasting affection. His 
tragic death, occurring characteristically in the course 
of helping another, through a fall of rock in a burning 
tunnel, evoked a sympathy and caused a blank in the 
lives of hundreds such as few are able to induce. 

The news of the fatality, greeting me on my return 
in triumph from the sensational traverse of Mt. Assini- 



1 84 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

boine, took all the gilt off the climax of a successful sea- 
son : he was the last to wish me success, none would have 
rejoiced more heartily in the achievement ; but his warm, 
enthusiastic heart was stilled, one of the best of 
friends gone on to join the ranks of those who have 
passed within the veil. 

The double pass to Lake O'Hara was suggested to 
me by Mr. Duchesnay himself, who was very anxious for 
me to investigate it and report on its suitability for a 
trail for horses, similar to that made by him across the 
Burgess Pass. This unfortunately I found to be imprac- 
ticable, but for pedestrians it affords a charming trip, 
although perhaps a trifle long for all but first-rate 
walkers. 

Following the path to the fossil-bed, I struck off to 
the right towards Dennis Pass, close to the junction of 
the streams from the pass and the Mt. Stephen amphi- 
theatre. This 1400 feet of ascent occupied forty min- 
utes, but the rough going and deepening snow (it was in 
October) caused me to take just over an hour for the next 
1800 feet, and I arrived at the col (c. 7300 feet) at half- 
past nine, having started at 7.45. Profiting by my 
previous experience, I made straight for the base of 
Duchesnay Pass, which connects the outlying ridges of 
Mt. Stephen with Mt. Duchesnay on the south. Keep- 
ing along the grassy side-hill, with a slight downward 
trend, a rough piece intervened before a steep pull up 
the rugged wall that marks the head of Boulder Creek. 
A large quantity of snow made the going heavy, and I 
frequently plunged in at least knee-deep. (There was 



FIELD AND MOUNT STEPHEN 185 

sufficient to give me a delightful ride on an impromptu 
avalanche the first time I descended on that side.) 
Nearly an hour was required for this part before I 
landed on the broad summit of the pass, about 8500 
feet above the sea. 

Lest any should be disappointed in future expedi- 
tions by this interesting route, it may be well to state 
that, though the snow was a considerable hindrance, and 
would be absent entirely in summer, I went enormously 
faster than the average gait, being in good condition, 
alone, and impressed by the distance and novelty of 
the way, as well as the shortness of a mid-October 
day. My two and three-quarter hours might easily be 
almost doubled by an average pedestrian. 

The long tributary of Cataract Valley which opens on 
the farther side is specially remarkable for the number 
of its lakelets, some of them extremely pretty, embos- 
omed in trees and bordered by a fringe of shrubs and 
grasses. Swinging well round towards Mt. Odaray (on 
the right), I received much assistance from the snow 
in the descent, several glissades being available. Then 
came a long tramp from timber-line, through forests, 
green and fire-swept, thickets and underbrush, over logs 
and boulders, till I struck the (then) poor trail from 
O'Hara Lake just at the end of the eastern spur of 
Cathedral Mountain. Being now in no hurry, I took 
my ease over the remainder of the journey, and arrived 
at Hector station soon after three o'clock, four and a half 
hours from Duchesnay Pass (including lunch), and seven 
and a quarter from Field. I was fortunate in finding a 



1 86 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

convenient locomotive just about to start, and finished 
my tour successfully in its warm and comfortable cab. 

One more incident must be alluded to ere I depart 
from Field, and that is the visit of their Royal High- 
nesses, the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York, 
who passed through Field twice in their journeys across 
Canada. As Field was the first place reached in British 
Columbia, a special welcome to the Province was dis- 
played on the triumphal arch erected in front of the 
Hotel, which was simply but tastefully decorated in 
honour of the future King and Queen. 

Happily the weather on both occasions, and through- 
out the royal stay on the Pacific slope, was all that 
could be desired, and both the Prince and Princess 
expressed themselves as filled with admiration and 
astonishment at the grandeur of the mountain scenery, 
and were most kindly interested in the accounts of 
mountain feats already accomplished and still awaiting 
the mountaineer, asking a number of questions about 
the scenery, the opportunities for sport and the details 
of climbing methods and adventures. 

As the royal train started eastward, with five huge 
engines panting and puffing as they bore their precious 
freight up the steep incline, one felt that the mountains 
had gained new and lasting friends, and that their charms 
and grandeur had, as always, by their marvellous spell, 
enriched their lives with a precious gift of priceless, life- 
long memories. 




EMERALD LAKE AND MT. WAPTA 
1 88 



CHAPTER VIII 



THE YOH'O VALLEY 



Without a doubt the chief attraction ot Field, 
beyond the ever present glory of its mountain, is its 
proximity to the justly famous Yoho Valley and the 
Emerald Lake. The approaches to both are very dif- 
ferent now to what they were in the days when I first 
was introduced to their beauties so recently as 1900, and 
they are accessible with ease and comfort for almost 
every one. 

In the year 1897 Mr. Jean Habel, of Berlin, an 
enthusiast in all that concerned the Rocky Mountains, — 
as indeed every one must be who has once tasted the 
sweets of mountain exploration in that fascinating 
region, — and a charming man, whose sudden death in 
1902 was a sad blow to all his many friends, spent sev- 
enteen days exploring this valley, and was the first to 
call attention to the magnificent waterfall which is its 
chiefest pride. Entering the valley by way of Em- 
erald Lake and the pass now known as Yoho Pass, he 
travelled right to its head and some miles up the long 
glacier beyond to the great Wapta snow-field. On his 
return he kept along the valley-bed and emerged at its 
junction with the valley of the Kicking Horse, about 
four miles above Field. 

189 



i 9 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The account he brought back of the beauty of the 
region, its grand ice-fields, and, above all, its splendid 
waterfalls, was the main factor of its exploitation by 
the Canadian Pacific Railway Company, and in 1900 
a trail was roughly made to a lookout point opposite 
the Takakkaw Fall. 

Desiring to see this fall, the fame of which was mag- 
nified at first by vast exaggerations as to its height, my 
brother and I determined to spend one day of our so- 
journ in making the pilgrimage to the Yoho Valley. In 
order to have ample time, we were to spend the night 
in one of the log huts erected on the shore of Emerald 
Lake, and make an early start from thence. 

The journey to the lake is one of my treasured mem- 
ories. It was on a Friday, early in September; rain 
had been falling in torrents all the day and previous 
night. Towards evening it began to clear, and indica- 
tions of better weather became so promising by six 
o'clock that we made up our minds in a great hurry to 
take advantage of the opportunity of a fine day on the 
morrow, in case Monday should be wet again. 

Miss Mollison's ever ready help was secured ; pro- 
visions were prepared and packed in our knapsacks ; a 
railway lantern was procured from some kind official 
at the station ; and off we marched in the gathering 
gloom. Crossing the river, we had an easy mile along 
the flat to the beginning of the woods, into which we 
turned in absolute darkness, save for the glimmer of our 
lantern. 

The narrow trail was deep in mud, slippery and sticky 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



191 



by turns ; the waving bushes and occasional fir boughs 
swept across our faces and bodies in the darkness, 
streaming with the moisture of a twenty-four hours' 
rain. The tall, black spruces towered aloft on either 
side, sometimes meeting like the arch of a tunnel above 
our heads, at others disclosing a long, narrow strip of 
star-sown sky between their feathery tops. So, up and 
down, in the soundless solitude of this wild forest, 
black and weird, almost uncanny, yet infinitely majestic 
and impressive, we followed the little trail, plunging 
through the darkness and the mud, until a gleam of 
water shot through the densely growing trees, and in 
a few moments we stood beside the lake. 

A brief spell of silent contemplation of the entrancing 
star-lit scene, and we passed into the welcome shack, lit 
a big fire, made some good hot tea, dried our saturated 
garments, and then tested the merits of the camp-beds 
under a mighty pile of thick, warm blankets. We 
needed them all, too, for the night was cold and frosty ; 
but we slept well, got astir fairly early, made an excel- 
lent picnic breakfast and were off by seven o'clock. 

Nowadays, a luxurious wagon-road leads to the lake, 
and a most charming chalet, well appointed and sup- 
plied with every comfort, takes the place of our old-time 
shack. But the lovely lake, the noble forests, and the 
castellated mountains are the same. The drive is a 
lovely one, particularly where the " long-drawn aisles " 
of stately firs open out a vista piercing the tall, tapering 
trees, that form a grand enshadowed avenue nearly a 
mile in length, beyond which the white sunlit crest 



i 9 2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

of glacier-crowned Mt Vaux leaps high into the 
heavens. 

The lake does not belie its name : it is a gem of per- 
fect beauty, whose colouring is marvellously rich and 
vivid, constantly changing under the shifting lights 
and shades, and the varied effects of morning, noon and 
eventide. The Chalet is situated on the edge of a small, 
wooded promontory, lapped by the peaceful waters, with 
pleasant paths meandering through the forest growth 
along the shore, and cozy corners everywhere for rest 
and scenery to be enjoyed. It stands beset by alpine 
slopes and rocky pinnacles, Mt. Wapta's castled ram- 
parts and the splendid precipices of Mt. Burgess ; and 
in front, the sheer face of President Mountain, with its 
snowy curtain and encircling glaciers, far above: the 
whole rich setting reappearing in sharp detailed dupli- 
cate upon the mirror surface of the tree-girt lake. 

On the occasion of our first visit there was but one 
trail, along the western shore. Then, quitting the lake, 
a stretch of gravel flat was crossed, and a steep path 
wound past some pretty falls and ere long buried itself 
in the thick woods, through which we steadily ascended 
until the summit of the Yoho Pass was gained, at an 
elevation of just 6000 feet, between Mt. Wapta and the 
eastern spur of President Range. Here, nowadays, a 
trail converges from the right, a beautiful alternative 
by which to come direct from Field or to return. 

It is a way replete with lovely pictures. The pines 
and firs and lowlier growth upon the slopes and ridges 
of Burgess Pass form a succession of admirable frames 



t 
THE YOHO VALLEY 



193 



and foregrounds for many a striking view, so that the 
3000 feet of ascent, by a good pony trail, seems scarcely 
half the altitude, so constantly enjoyable has been the 
scenery — down the valley where Mt. Vaux's elegantly 
moulded glacial apex shines against the blue ; up the 
narrow, wooded canyon to the Great Divide ; or straight 
across to Mt. Stephen's splendid mass (seen here perhaps 
to better advantage than from any other point) and the 
Cathedral's ruined spires and towers. 

As the narrow ridge of Burgess Pass is crossed, the 
President Group bursts on the sight, with the bright 
lakelet in its leafy setting 3000 feet below, more ex- 
quisitely emerald in colour from this vantage point than 
from a lower altitude, whilst the tremendous wall of 
Mt. Burgess towers above our heads. 

The trail now skirts the bases of Mts. Field and 
Wapta, trending downward at an easy angle, to join the 
lower one on Yoho Pass. A few score paces on the 
farther side a restful little lake comes into view, en- 
shrined in forest, with a fairy peep of whitened summits 
far beyond, and a sharp rock peak its dominating feature 
in a backward look. This has been dubbed the " Par- 
sons' Peak " locally, in commemoration of our ascent of 
it on the afternoon of our first visit to the Yoho Valley ; 
but some other title is more likely to be officially adopted 
for the small but striking pinnacle. 

We passed round the lower end of Yoho Lake, 
crossed the little stream debouching from it, and resumed 
our pathway through the forest. Ere long a booming as 
of distant thunder reverberated with ever growing vol- 



i 9 4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 




YOHO LAKE AND THE PARSONS' PEAK 

ume and intensity, and in half an hour we emerged from 
the trees in full view of the grand Takakkaw Fall, 1 on 
the far side of the valley and about a mile across in an 
air-line. 

The great neve between Mt. Balfour and Mt. Niles 
gleams white above ; a crevassed glacier-tongue streams 
down a narrowing gully, worn in long ages in the face of a 
tremendous wall of rock, nearly 2500 feet in height; the 
torrent, issuing from an icy cavern, rushes tempestuously 
down a deep, winding chasm till it gains the verge of the 
unbroken cliff, leaps forth in sudden wildness for a hun- 
dred and fifty feet, and then in a stupendous column of 
pure white sparkling water, broken by giant jets descend- 
ing rocket-like and wreathed in volumed spray, dashes 

1 "Takakkaw," an Indian word signifying "It is wonderful." 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



95 



upon the rocks almost a thousand feet below, and, break- 
ing into a milky series of cascading rushes for five hundred 
feet more, swirls into the swift current of the Yoho River. 
Down the far-stretching steeps, clothed with a wealth 
of living green, or rugged in their barrenness, dash other 
silvery cascades ; the river gleams below ; majestic lines 
of cliff and jagged pinnacles cleave the clear sky; and 
glaciers and snow-fields lie along their base. 




Photo, by} 



THE TAKAKKAW FALL 



[A. S. Coivan 



196 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Such a scene as this compelled a lengthy stay at the 
Lookout point, but at last we resumed activity, and, to 
vary the route and try to get a yet more extensive pano- 
rama of the neighbouring mountains, we struck straight 
up the slopes, along the track of an ancient avalanche, 
that had cut a broad swath through the timber, leaving 
a steep, open pathway, now green with tiny trees and 
bushes. Keeping to the left of the fringe of glacier 
which stretches along the base of the President cliffs, 
we soon reached the divide, a thousand feet or so above 
the Yoho Pass. 

As we were bearing round the rocky shoulder of the 
" Parsons' Peak," I suddenly came face to face with a mag- 
nificent specimen of a mountain goat. He was advanc- 
ing gayly round a buttress on a somewhat narrow ledge 
as I was soberly progressing in the opposite direction. 
He was so surprised that he stood still for several sec- 
onds in sheer amazement, and I was very nearly able 
to pull his venerable beard ere he recovered from the 
shock and saved himself from such a gross familiarity 
by a most unceremonious departure in a whirl of dust. 

Making the ascent entirely on rocks, we succeeded 
in obtaining quite an interesting scramble to the sharp 
peak we were aiming at, and quickly reached the little 
pinnacle, about 8500 feet above the sea and 2500 feet 
above the pass. It proved to be the terminal point 
of the long eastern ridge of the President Group, but 
little elevated above the arete connecting it with the 
next in the series of minor peaks, yet presenting quite 
an imposing appearance from below. We crossed the 



THE YOHO VALLEY 19 7 

peak, descended on the farther side, and made a rough 
and enterprising way down the cliffs to the head of the 
cascade above the Emerald Lake flats. Then swinging 
along beside the water's edge, we picked up the remnants 
of our possessions at the shacks and completed the 
impressive forest journey down to Field by dinner 
time. 

Many a time since then have I visited the lake, and 
had the great privilege of spending more than a fort- 
night in 1 90 1 in the upper portions of the Yoho Valley 
as Mr. Edward Whymper's guest, having the pleasant 
opportunity of doing the first mountain-climbing from 
that attractive centre. 

On August 6th, 1901, Mr. Whymper and I, with Chris- 
tian Klucker (one of Mr. Whymper's four Swiss guides), 
Christian Hasler and Tom Martin, spent a day in fol- 
lowing up the North Branch of the Kicking Horse (now 
the Amiskwi River) to the mouth of its chief tributary, 
Kiwetinok Creek. This stream rises near Kiwetinok Pass, 
which separates its head-waters from those of the Upper 
Yoho Valley, where Mr. Whymper's camp was situated, 
and our object was to reconnoitre this side in order to 
find out whether a satisfactory route could be made 
from the camp to Field by way of the intervening 
pass. 

Next day we started for the camp by way of the 
Emerald Lake trail, driving to the lake and tramping 
across the Yoho Pass. Mr. T. E. Wilson and Klucker 
completed the party. Leaving Yoho Lake upon our 
right, we struck off along a trail made only the previ- 



198 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

ous week by Mr. Whymper's men. Ascending a few 
hundred feet through the woods, timber-line was soon 
passed, and we skirted the end of a series of glaciers 
that cling to the rugged base of the President's eastern 
spur. 

A magnificent view of the Takakkaw Fall here 
challenges attention : our elevation is almost exactly 
that of the top of the upper fall, and the glacier-tongue, 
the rushing torrent from its icy cavern and the gigantic 
fall of seething water form a complete picture of re- 
markable interest and effectiveness. 

Part of our way lay over alps, clothed, as usual, with 
luxuriant flowers, the yellow mountain lily very promi- 
nent, and flaming painter's-brush, purple asters, white 
dryas, and anemones also abundant. A rough traverse of 
an ancient moraine and the crossing of a mountain tor- 
rent lent variety, and as we rounded the shoulder of the 
north-west buttress of the President Group, a splendid 
view of the entire valley was vouchsafed, with the Upper 
Yoho tributary descending from the south. 

An amusing round-up of an antique porcupine, to 
enable me to take a portrait of his excellency, was 
somewhat unsuccessful in its main result, as it was too 
dark for instantaneous work and the subject was too 
flustered to look pleasant or remain quiescent. About 
dark we struck the camp, situated at the edge of a flat 
meadow, fringed with fir trees and overlooked by jagged 
and snow-clad peaks. Here we were heartily welcomed 
by Mr. Whymper's three other guides, Joseph Bossoney, 
Christian Kaufmann and Joseph Pollinger, Bill Peyto, 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



199 



the outfitter of the camp equipment, and Jack Sinclair, 
his aide ; and we spent a cheerful evening round the 
roaring fire. 

One of the chief delights of camp life is the fire. Its 
cheerful blaze and lusty crackling logs lure every one 
to its vicinity and invite the greatest sociability. It is 
a democratic institution of the most powerful and valu- 
able type. All are equals under its potent influence, and 
conversation flows apace. The yarns attributable to its 
influence are endless and of infinite variety, though 
sometimes perhaps there is a lack of absolutely historical 
accuracy, which does not necessarily detract from their 
interest or their value. Tales of the mountains of this 
and other lands, of hunting experiences and cowboy epi- 
sodes ; tales of the goldfields mingle with the stirring 
themes of war, and adventures, grim and gay, by land 
and sea, in almost every clime, contribute to the nightly 
entertainment and while away the passing hour. The 
Yoho camp was one of the most interesting possible, for 
Mr. Whymper and Pollinger had been in South America, 
among the Andes ; Peyto was one of the Canadian con- 
tingent in South Africa, and had an ample share of work 
in the fighting line ; Sinclair had hunted gold in Australia 
and the Pacific islands ; and I had wandered in most of 
the countries of Europe as well as Palestine and Egypt. 

Plans and preparations for the succeeding day took 
up some time, and finally we turned in and buried our- 
selves cozily in the depths of blanket sleeping-bags, upon 
a springy couch of scented boughs, beneath the white 
canopy of our comfortable tents. 



200 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Next morning (August 8th) we were early astir with 
a double programme in view. Mr. Whymper, with 
Wilson and Klucker, intended to cross Kiwetinok Pass, 
at the head of our valley, enter the Kiwetinok Valley, 
(the tributary of the Amiskwi up which we had pros- 
pected two days before), swing round the shoulder of the 
President massif, and so reach Field, making an entire 
tour of the group. This they accomplished successfully 
after a long and fatiguing tramp of some seventeen 
hours, being much impeded by heavy timber- work on 
the slopes of Mt. McMullen. 

Poliinger and Kaufmann were told off as my com- 
panions for a reconnaissance to the north-west. Both 
parties started together and leisurely mounted the easy 
slopes which lead to the pass. The President Range 
stood on our left, with considerable glaciers sweeping 
down into the valley: rocky spurs rose to the right, out- 
liers of the main ridge running south-east from the peak 
known as Signal 18, one of the Dominion Land Survey 
stations. Just below the col, a picturesque tarn lies at 
an altitude of about 8000 feet, nestling beneath the 
sheltering cliffs of a minor peak, which terminates the 
above-mentioned ridge, and forms one of the guardians 
of the narrow pass. The lake was still almost wholly 
frozen over, and a small glacier appeared to run right 
into the upper end, where deep snows were massed upon 
the frozen surface and the shore. 

In two easy hours from camp we arrived on the 
summit of the pass, a desolate plateau of brown shale 
and debris, patched with snow and strewn with angular 



THE YOHO VALLEY 201 

blocks of limestone. Before us opened out the bright, 
green expanse of the Kiwetinok Valley, trending sharply 
downward between steep grassy banks and as a thickly 
wooded canyon disappearing from view round the final 
buttress of Mt. McMullen. Away in the distance rose 
the Selkirks, gleaming white with their splendid mantle 
of perpetual snow, beyond the ruddy pyramids of the 
Van Home Range. 

A photographic halt ensued, and we bade farewell 
to the Field contingent, turning our footsteps upward 
towards the peak above the lake. Good snow led to a 
steepish climb, a scramble over an awkward schrund, and 
a breaking through a little cornice, but we soon reached 
the long arete and, continuing by its edge, in an hour 
gained the rocky summit (9600 feet). 

We were now perched on a pinnacle overlooking the 
two streams that unite to form the Amiskwi River, with 
a splendid array of peaks around us. The President 
Range, close at hand, was naturally most conspicuous, 
with the fine pyramid of Mt. McMullen particularly 
striking. But to me by far the most interesting outlook 
was to the distant mountains of the north, and I obtained 
my first glimpse of the region I had read and dreamed 
about, the region of the Freshfields and Mt. Forbes, 
Mt. Bryce and Mt. Columbia. Our view only took in 
the south-west corner of this vast mountain region, but 
Mt. Mummery and the Freshfield Group, with their 
grand glaciers, gave a first impression, deepened and 
extended by subsequent views, which eventually led to the 
most fascinating summer holiday that I have ever known. 



202 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Of course photography and sundry observations were 
indulged in, — ca va sans dire in this vast land where 
such huge areas are unknown and unmapped, — then, 
christening the peak " Kiwetinok," the Indian name 
already given to the stream and valley which it over- 
hangs, we retraced our steps to the point where we had 
gained the ridge. Pollinger returned to the pass to carry 
back some instruments of Mr. Whymper's, and Kauf- 
mann and I continued along the arete towards Signal 18. 
Passing over two subsidiary points, each with a spur 
extending to the Upper Yoho Valley and giving the 
appearance of a peak from the depths of our camping- 
ground, an hour sufficed to bring us to the snowy summit. 

We found the survey cairn set up, and spent some 
time enjoying the fresh beauties of the scene unfolded 
here. The distant view was very similar to that of the 
earlier peak, but the magnificent sweep of snow-field now 
lying at our feet was worthy of any alpine region. An 
upland glacier stretched from the crest of our mountain 
on either side of a strangely shaped rocky island — named 
Isolated Peak — to the Upper Yoho Valley and the far 
larger Habel Glacier, a huge expanse filling the semi- 
circular basin above which Mt. Habel rears its sharp, 
white apex. Beyond this, without a break in the snow- 
covered surface, the neve of Mt. Collie leads to the yet 
vaster Wapta ice-fields (from which the Yoho tongue 
flows into the valley of that name), and they, in turn, 
curve round the valley head and, behind Mt. Gordon, 
unite with another dozen miles or so of glacier that 
forms the snow-field of the Waputik. 



THE YOHO VALLEY 203 

This succession of glaciers, some thirty miles in 
length, sends down long tongues on both sides of the 
watershed between each pair of peaks that form the 
retaining walls of its enormous arctic mass. 

At 1 1.30 we left the top to return to camp by way of 
Isolated Peak and the eastern glacier. As we skirted 
the ice-cliffs above the Habel Glacier, we espied upon 
the snow, close to the edge of a wide-yawning crevasse, 
a dark, round object, which at first we could not recog- 
nize. Changing our course to get a nearer view, we saw 
it was a monster porcupine. But whether he was dead, 
asleep, or wrapped in meditation, it was impossible to 
tell. Venturing as far as was prudent to the upper lip 
of the crevasse which separated us, I photographed this 
candidate for alpine honours, and then, to find out his 
condition, ignobly snow-balled him. This took immedi- 
ate effect. At the indignity, he hastily uncurled him- 
self and waddled off along the rim of the deep fissure. 
Again I took his portrait, just before he disappeared be- 
hind an icy projection. A moment later we saw him try 
to turn, but, alas, he slipped and fell, and the last seen of 
the unhappy mountaineer was a faint wave of his black 
tail as he crawled slowly over a snowy mass wedged far 
down in the recesses of the frozen chasm, apparently un- 
hurt but hopelessly unable ever to return. And there 
we had to leave him, another victim to the dangerous 
habit of climbing alone and of venturing upon a glacier 
without a rope! 

What he was doing or seeking at an altitude of nearly 
9000 feet, 1500 above timber-line, I cannot say, but it 



20 4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

was certainly a surprise to meet with him upon the chill 
expanse of a large ice-field, with a long and difficult, as 
well as foodless, journey evidently accomplished to reach 
his record situation. 

Our scheme for August 9th was the ascent of the 
highest point of the President Range. It is formed by 
two ridges, containing a number of more or less promi- 
nent peaks, converging to a sharp angle, thrust like a 
wedge between the Upper Yoho and the Yoho Valleys : 
within the angle lies the Emerald Lake. The highest 
peak, " The President," stands almost in the centre of 
the principal ridge, running nearly north and south. It 
rises about 6000 feet above the lake, but not much more 
than 3300 from our camp, so that for shortness and also 
ease the Yoho Valley starting-point is much the more 
advantageous. 

Off at 6.50 with Pollinger and Kaufmann, fifty 
minutes were spent on stones and dry glacier before we 
roped up, when we made rapid progress over the neve 
towards a narrow dip east of the chief peak. Numerous 
bad crevasses were encountered, but in two hours from 
camp we reached the white pass, at a height of about 
9800 feet. The travelling speed of our trio was in all 
our expeditions well above the average, and any who 
may follow in our footsteps should make due allowance 
for three special elements: splendid mountaineering 
craft (whichever guide was leading), the ideal number 
on the rope, and a constitutional tendency towards rapid 
going in all three of us. 

Mr. Whymper and C. Klucker were the first and, 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



205 



up to date, the only ones to cross this col, the Emerald 
Pass. They traversed it early in August, en route for 
Field. Its glacial conditions demand experience, but 
otherwise there are no special difficulties and by far the 
most disagreeable and fatiguing part was the descent 




SUMMIT OF THE PRESIDENT 



through trackless thickets to the flat above Emerald 
Lake. 

On the morning of our climb the weather was 
singularly unpropitious : after a clear dawn, clouds 
gathered thickly, threatening snow, and, what was far 
worse to me, a loss of view. So we made but the 
briefest halt on the col, and turned to the steep snow- 
slope of our mountain, which forms one of the abrupt 
walls hemming in the pass. Kicking or cutting steps 



206 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

in frozen snow or ice, we zigzagged upward till an 
easier gradient and better footing on rock or solid snow 
furnished a simple approach to the summit. A splendid 
cornice overhung the eastern face, whose curtain of 
purest snow was scored by the tracks of falling masses 
of ice from the wide arctic eaves above. 

We found the altitude to be about 10,200 feet, very 
slightly higher than Mt. McMullen, the pyramid that 
terminates the massif to the south, and than the peak 
immediately to the north of us, which in form strongly 
resembles that on which we stood and bears the name 
of " The Vice-President." The view was interesting 
in the extreme. Far below, some 6000 feet, lay the 
brilliantly emerald waters of the lake ; the imposing 
precipices of Mt. Burgess and Mt. Wapta rose beyond, 
and my old friends, the mountains in the neighbour- 
hood of Field and Laggan, stretched grandly across 
the distance. Again the far north-western peaks were 
visible, and the great sweep of the ice-fields, surmounted 
by prominent summits, was seen to good effect. 

One of my principal objects in making the ascent 
was to determine which of the many points in the group 
was the one climbed in 1900 by Professor Michael and 
Christian Hasler. The designation of that point by 
the title " Emerald Peak " had naturally given the 
impression that it w r as the chief summit of the group 
of that name (the names " President Range " and " The 
President " having only recently been substituted for 
the earlier designations of " The Emerald Group " and 
" Emerald Peak ") ; but the details of the ascent by way 






THE YOHO VALLEY 207 

of the glacier under " Parsons' Peak " led me to con- 
clude that they had only reached a minor elevation on 
that ridge. 

On arriving at our peak, evidently the highest of 
the range, my surmise was confirmed by the absence 
of any cairn such as was stated to have been erected 
to commemorate their climb. I was anxious to ascer- 
tain beyond a doubt which was their peak, and we 
should have traversed the entire ridge had not the 
weather taken a share in the argument and falling 
snow decided us to seek the shelter of the camp, as 
no satisfactory results could be obtained in the cir- 
cumstances. The col was reached in twenty minutes, 
half an hour later we unroped, and finally arrived in 
camp after just an hour and a quarter's going from 
the top. 

Four days later the investigation was resumed, and 
we ascended the Vice-President, lying next to the main 
peak on the north. A glacier and col, — President 
Pass, — somewhat similar to those on the opposite side 
of the highest peak, divide the two summits. Our way 
lay up the centre and right bank of the glacier to a 
rocky spur protruding westward from our objective 
peak, and along this we next proceeded, sometimes on 
rocks, more often on the snow, and finally by zigzags 
on frozen snow to the white top. This occupied three 
hours, including one or two brief halts, and the eleva- 
tion is approximately 10,000 feet. 

Finding no traces here of Professor Michael, we fol- 
lowed along the crest of the arete to a sharp point where 



2o8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the ridge turns abruptly at less than a right angle 
towards the east. This snowy little pinnacle, which I 
called Angle Peak, is a magnificent coign of vantage 
from which to obtain a survey of the Yoho Valley. It 
projects into the angle between the Upper Yoho and 
the Yoho Valleys, rising as a glittering cone above the 
dark forest slopes and deep canyons four to five thou- 
sand feet below. 

Still keeping to the arete, in a short time we came to 
a little elevation, slightly lower than the Angle Peak, 
where we discovered the "remains" we sought, — a tiny 
cairn, a good-sized bottle, and a record, bearing date 
" Sept. — , 1900." Their climb had been a very long 
and most laborious one from the shacks at the lake 
shore, and the length of time taken, together with the 
shortness of a September day, prevented their going 
farther ; otherwise, no doubt, they would have made for 
the second peak and perhaps the highest, though the 
eastern side of the latter is anything but a pleasant 
problem to undertake. 

We lunched on the spot, took several photographs, 
especially admiring the grandeur of the chief peak from 
this point of view, and then made tracks directly for the 
col above our camp (thirty-five minutes), and had our 
customary quick descent over the glacier in forty min- 
utes more. 

Mr. Whymper had meanwhile returned, and on the 
14th we made a triumphant expedition in force to the 
top of Isolated Peak. All the four guides, Mr. Whym- 
per and I were of the party, as a large theodolite, with 



THE YOHO VALLEY 209 

a huge, cumbersome tripod, a Fortin mercurial barom- 
eter, large camera, and sundry smaller articles had to 
be transported to our destination. The height of the 
little peak is not of imposing dimensions, being barely 
9300 feet, but its position is extremely valuable for a 
survey of the glaciers surrounding the head of the Yoho, 
and of the various tributary valleys. 

It was a strictly business enterprise, though the gran- 
deur and wild beauty of the whole environment is thor- 
oughly enjoyable. As regards the climb, it is scarcely 
worthy of the name. A pleasant pull up through the 
trees and over flowery meadows was succeeded by a bit 
of steep, dry glacier, till snow and schrmtds rendered a 
rope advisable for a short distance, and finally an easy 
tramp up a gentle slope of debris landed us on the small, 
rocky apex. 

A tiny col, to the north, unites this little helmet- 
shaped peak to a long whale-back ridge separating the 
Upper Yoho Valley from that of the Twin Falls, and 
connects our ice-bound peninsula with the world of life. 1 
Everywhere else its base is swept by the moving masses 
of snow-covered glacier, which stream down from the 
wide slopes of Signal 18, and, surging against the prom- 
ontory of our Isolated Peak, flow down on either side 
into the tributary valleys of the Yoho River. 

Two specially interesting routes were carefully ob- 
served with reference to future expeditions : one, to the 
summit of Mt. Habel, and the other, across a glacier 

1 Here, one morning, we espied seventeen or eighteen mountain goats 
browsing upon the southern slopes. 



210 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

pass to the north of Mt. Balfour, leading to the upper 
valley of the Bow. Some hours were also spent by 
Mr. Whymper in making an exhaustive series of transit 
readings and a complete photographic panorama of the 
scene. 

The following day, August 15th, we made our highest 
and far most interesting ascent in the region — to the 
summit of Mt. Habel (10,600 feet). The mountain is 
a conspicuous one, and is well seen from the railroad 
about half-way down the " hill " above Field, strikingly 
sharp and white above the wide stretch of glacier that 
circles round the head of the Yoho Valley : and it ob- 
viously held an unequalled position for a survey of 
the scarcely known mountain world of the north-west, 
reports of which had established it as the grandest 
section of the Canadian chain. 

The great distance demanded an early start, but it 
was 4.45 before we got off and commenced the slow 
ascent towards Isolated Peak. Bearing to the right, we 
scrambled to the rocky little col to the north-east of the 
peak, 2000 feet above the camp, in somewhat less than 
two hours, and had to descend sharply for 300 feet on 
the farther side to the main level of the Habel Glacier. 
Thence ensued a monotonous tramp across its several 
miles of almost level surface for about two hours more. 
The snow was in fair condition, uneven but not soft, yet 
the pace was slow and wearisome, and a little island of 
rocks just at the foot of the southern arete of our peak 
was hailed with joy, and twenty minutes' rest gave us a 
pleasant relaxation. The day was exquisite : an Italian 



THE YOHO VALLEY 211 

sky set off the purity of our environment of dazzling 
white snow, but the hot sun and glare were almost too 
severe to conduce to the perfect comfort of the corpus 
vile. 

The peak loomed close above us now, with a circular 
basin of steep neve embosomed between two long aretes. 
This was full of crevasses, some of them very large, but 
the advantages of the route over the alternative of the 
rocky ridge were overwhelming, and by nine o'clock we 
were once more on the upward grade. The snow was 
softer than before, but our pace improved a little and we 
steadily mounted to the centre of the ice-basin : then, 
bearing to the left, we made directly for the arete. 

This was guarded by an enormous bergschrund, but 
a sufficiently stable bridge was found leading to the steep 
snow curtain that rose beyond the broad crevasse. It 
was laborious work clambering up this almost upright 
wall of softest snow, in which we sank occasionally up 
to the hips, but eventually we struggled to the crest and 
halted in a little circular recess hollowed in the snow, 
with a small pool of water in the middle, and a magnifi- 
cent outlook from the edge of the mountain's western 
wall. 

Sundry refreshments were most acceptable, espe- 
cially Mr. Whymper's particular mountain luxury, 
fizzy lemonade, and in half an hour (10.50) we 
resumed our climb. We were already 1500 feet above 
the isle of rocks, and only about 500 feet remained. 
But all the toil was over : only an easy slope of 
shale and scree, with patches of snow and a few 



2i2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

stones and boulders, intervened ; the rope was not 
needed and half an hour was ample for a leisurely com- 
pletion of our task. 

By 1 1. 1 5 we stood upon the summit, which was 
crowned by a really splendid cornice overhanging the 
tremendous northern precipice, and took our fill of the 
glorious fresh air and the enchanting scenery. For two 
and a half hours we basked in the warm sunshine, turn- 
ing again and again from point to point of the enormous 
sea of peaks till the entire panorama was fixed upon my 
memory. 

And how superb it was ! First and foremost, of 
course, was that new region to the far north-west, domi- 
nated by the dark pyramid of Mt. Forbes, behind whose 
shoulder distant summits of surpassing whiteness stood 
out clear against the sky. One of these, 

" Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky," 

is Mt. Columbia, sixty miles away, more than 12,500 
feet above the sea, sovereign supreme of all this realm 
of mighty peaks. Nearer, the Freshfield Group and 
dark Mt. Mummery are prominent, the southern out- 
posts of that vast alpine territory. 

The better-known mountains of the Waputik Range, 
with Mt. Hector rising beyond them, lead the eye on- 
ward to the striking summits on the farther side of 
the railroad, Mts. Temple and Hungabee, Victoria and 
Lefroy, Stephen and Cathedral, and the Ottertails, 
whilst the ethereal-looking snowy ranges of the Sel- 
kirks stretch right across the horizon in the west. 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



213 



Far below us, in the narrow gap between the sheer 
walls of Mt. Habel and Mt. Collie, a glacier pass leads to 
the upper waters of the Blaeberry, and in the opposite 
direction we looked down almost as steep a descent to 
the broad, green expanse of Baker Pass, bearing a 
shining lakelet on its ample bosom, whilst the sombre 
depths of the North Saskatchewan cleave the mountains 
to the north. 

On the southern side of Baker Pass the Amiskwi 
River takes its rise and joins the Kicking Horse about 
three miles below Field. The pass is a bleak upland, 
sloping gently towards the south, but pitching very 
abruptly to the valley of the Blaeberry. It was first 
crossed (since Indian times) by Mr. G. P. Baker and 
Professor J. N. Collie, in September, 1897, led by Bill 
Peyto. The ascent on the Blaeberry side is a terrific 
one and most probably horses had never been taken 
over it before, but, being lightly loaded and in good con- 
dition, the cayuses were brought across successfully. 
Peyto repeated the trip with Mr. Wilcox in the midst 
of the October snows, but it has not found favour as a 
regular way, and if it be used as a means of communi- 
cation between the Kicking Horse and upper waters 
of the Blaeberry or North Saskatchewan (now that 
fallen timber has rendered the lower Blaeberry Valley 
impassable), it should be on the southward journey alone, 
the danger of descending with horses on the farther side 
being considerable. 

At 1.30 we turned our faces homeward, and had 
an easy descent to the rocky islet in eighty minutes. 



2i 4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

A three-quarter-hour halt ensued, during which we 
amused ourselves by stalking some stray ptarmigan in 
an endeavour to catch them, first by camera and then 
by hand. The former was the more successful, though 
the tameness of the birds permitted us to get within 
a few inches of them time after time. Both the ptar- 
migan and tree-grouse, or foolhens, are remarkable 
for their freedom from fear; they can be readily 
approached, and we have on several occasions knocked 
them down with sticks or stones when the larder has 
been low. 

On the long snow stretch conditions were still admi- 
rable, and we arrived at the rocky col at ten minutes 
after five. Thenceforward there was plenty of leisure 
and lemonade, and we reached our tents at 7 p.m. 

Next day we struck camp, leaving the pleasant 
upland meadow where it had been located for more 
than a fortnight. Peyto, Sinclair, the guides and I, at 
various times and in various combinations, had been 
investigating most thoroughly the lower reaches of the 
valley in an endeavour to find some route to the main 
Yoho Valley suitable for horses, but without success. 
One by the left bank was located, curving round a 
shoulder of the Whaleback ridge, and it has since been 
cut out by the Canadian Pacific Railway Company, but it 
involved far too much timber-cutting for our purposes. 
The lower portion of the upper valley is draped heavily 
with trees of varied foliage, screening an exquisite little 
lake which we discovered on the shoulder of the hill 
during our explorations, and the torrent's course, rugged 



THE YOHO VALLEY 215 

always and broken by repeated cataracts and miniature 
canyons, grows deeper and more abrupt as it plunges 
downward to a final headlong leap over a splendid belt 
of cliffs to join the foaming Yoho River. 

This long cliff-belt and the thick and fallen timber 
obliged us to send the outfit all the way back to Yoho 
Lake and round by the regular trail, which zigzags 
to the bottom of the valley close to the foot of the 
Takakkaw Fall. Here we pitched our tents for the 
night, w r ith the thunder of the giant fall reverberating 
between the lofty walls on either side. 

The following morning we moved on to the head 
of the main valley and found a charming little camping- 
ground amongst the trees about two-thirds of a mile 
from the end of the Yoho Glacier. Numberless attrac- 
tions arrest one's attention in this ideal valley. First I 
went off alone to see the big fall at close quarters, and 
incidentally passed through a wood where huge, fallen 
trees were lying in such continuous profusion that I was 
able to travel for more than four hundred yards without 
once putting my foot upon the ground, and frequently 
my log pathway was many feet above the soil. 

Soon I was standing by the river-brink, face to face 
with the great cataract, whose glistening mass of foaming 
water seemed to pour straight from the blue firmament 
that crowns the frowning walls, and crashed with a 
ceaseless thunder on the boulders at their base. 

Traversing shingle flats, green, sunny meadows, and 
shady forest groves, we passed a shallow lake, named 
after Mr. Duchesnay, to whose initiative, enthusiasm and 



216 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

energy the opening up of this exquisite corner of Na- 
ture's rich domain is chiefly due. The waters are won- 
derfully warm and full of marvellous living creatures; 
and the shores are thickly strewn with tiny shells. 




THE TAKAKKAW FALL 



iooo feet in height 

Fine cliffs guard it on the farther side, and Yoho Peak, 
so often visible as we ascend the valley, rears its pure 
snow-dome above the firs, and forms, with the white, 
gleaming glacier, the central feature of the background. 
Hard by, the river passes through a narrow, crooked 
flume, worn deeply in the solid rock, a turbulent and 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



217 



seething flood; and a short distance higher up, two 
considerable tributaries enter from the west. First the 
Upper Yoho stream, leaping from out the dark green 
woods that cling to the steep cliff-sides, makes its lofty- 
plunge close to the trail, forming the Laughing Fall. 
Two hundred paces farther, the torrent draining Habel 
Glacier comes impetuously down, and our way now lay 
along its course. A good trail, with some ascent, was 
followed, and soon, athwart the fir trees to our left, a 
glimpse was gained of what by many is considered to 
be the chief glory of the neighbourhood — the Twin 
Falls — not equalling in grandeur the Takakkaw's 
single leap, yet still more picturesque. 

A few minutes later we were at our new abode, 
where we were destined to sojourn for another week. 

The next day was Sunday, August 18th, and a gen- 
eral day of rest, so I went off on a solitary, meditative 
ramble. The direction of the Twin Falls was naturally 
taken, the trail of the previous day being retraced to its 
junction with the path to the falls' base. The ascent 
is fairly steep and amounts to some three hundred 
feet, but delightful peeps of the tumultuous stream are 
continually obtained as one wanders through the shady 
woods, and a superb gorge is passed, with vertical preci- 
pices over a hundred feet in height, whose crests are 
almost touching as they overhang the boiling torrent. 

Forty minutes from the camp brought me to the foot 
of the falls, and from a wide, sloping terrace, covered 
with undergrowth and shrubs, I paused to gaze at the 
noble cliff, which rises abruptly four or five hundred 



218 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

feet and stretches right across the valley. From two 
deep grooves worn in the centre of its upper rim, the 
parted river pours its glittering twin streams in ceaseless 
cataracts, which rush united downward in a succession 



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THE TWIN FALLS 



of turbulent cascades and sweep below me wildly in their 
headlong haste. 

I found quite a company gathered at the attractive 
spot ; for Miss Vaux and Mr. George Vaux, of Philadel- 
phia, had come up from their camp near the Yoho gorge, 
accompanied by Mr. Duchesnay, C. Hasler and Tom 



THE YOHO VALLEY 219 

Martin, with Hansen, the foreman of the trail-making 
gang. Mr. Vaux was much elated at being five minutes 
ahead of me and the first to take a near photograph of 
the Twins. Mr. Wilcox had been there earlier, but one 
of the streams was indisposed, suffering from a landslide 
in its upper channel, and refused to work. So Mr. 
Duchesnay, with his usual readiness and thoughtfulness, 
had despatched the workmen to remove the obstruction, 
and this was the first appearance of the invalid since 
his illness. He still showed some traces of his recent 
ailment, but the effect was nevertheless quite superb, 
and a long time was spent enjoying the beauties of this 
charming spot. 

Then I wandered down stream with Mr. Duchesnay 
and Hansen. Frequent cascades and foaming rushes, 
miniature canyons and meandering curves, form many a 
lovely picture, set off by the varied greenery of bush and 
plant, and framed by massive trunks and over-arching 
boughs. Crossing the stream, another characteristic 
Yoho Valley lake came suddenly into view amidst the 
trees, and from its lower end, above the heavy fringe of 
firs, we catch a distant glimpse of the Twin Falls, and 
see them again reflected in the clearness of the water,, 
whilst the murmur of their far-off thunder fills the ear. 

Returning to the foot of the falls, I left my friends 
at half-past eleven, and scaled the cliffs which form a 
barrier across the valley. I now found myself in 
a charming open valley, green and fresh, a perfect 
garden of autumn flowers, walled in by the ridges of 
our old friend the Whaleback and the Yoho Peak, and 



2 2o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

sloping gently upward to the three-tongued Habel 
Glacier. Turning to the right, I struck the south-east 
arete of Yoho Peak, and following its crest, reached the 
first of its three points in a little over an hour from the 
falls. The ridge is extremely narrow, but the going 
was particularly easy; one could almost run along, either 
on the rough crest or on a convenient little ledge from 
one to three feet lower, so that for scarcely a foot of the 
way was my head below the sky-line. 

The next point, slightly higher, also a rocky pin- 
nacle, was gained in twenty minutes more, a second 
cairn erected, and then a steep descent made over rocks 
to a nick between the ragged ridge thus far traversed 
and the snowy dome of the highest peak. Half an hour 
was occupied in the transit, and I found a " stone- 
man " to greet me, built two or three days previously 
by Messrs. Campbell, Dubois and Palmer, who were the 
first to climb the little mountain, which they did by way 
of the Yoho Glacier, an easy but not so interesting 
route as the one by the ridge. 

The summit is not more than 9200 feet, rising out 
of the great Wapta snow-field, and (except that it has 
a striking appearance during the ascent of the Yoho 
Valley) of no significance save as a view-point; but 
in that character it would be hard to beat for a glacial 
panorama. A wide expanse of snow-field, edged by 
noble peaks, almost surrounds it; the one exception 
is to the south-east, where the fine vista of the green 
Yoho Valley breaks the uniformity of white, and carries 
the gaze down its deep wooded cleft to the long, 



THE YOHO VALLEY 221 

indented range of splendid mountains beyond the rail- 
road track. One of the most notable features of the 
view is the appearance of Mt. Forbes, exactly in the 
centre of the icy gap between Mt. Habel and Mt. 
Collie ; and the interesting medial moraine crossing 
Balfour Pass is well seen from this vantage-ground 
just opposite. 

My return was a helter-skelter of glissades and 
scurries over grass and debris to the rim of the enor- 
mous wall that turns the Yoho glacier-tongue sharply 
eastward near its extremity, and from its sheer eleva- 
tion of about a thousand feet a striking survey of the 
glacier is obtained. 

On the 19th Mt. Collie was our objective point; 
and, anticipating a long day similar to the Habel ex- 
pedition, chiefly on snow, we were on the move at 4.45. 
A quarter of an hour from our camp brought us on a 
sudden face to face with the vast tongue of glacier that 
pushes its relentless way, between huge barren cliffs, 
from the great life-bereft snow regions far above into the 
verdant heart of the warm lower realms of life and vege- 
tation. A fine ice-cave usually marks the source of the 
Yoho River, just 6000 feet above sea-level, but it had 
recently fallen in and blocks of ice lay strewn around 
the now low and insignificant exit. Crossing a rough 
slope of loose stones and detritus, we soon set foot on 
the ice and had to cut a considerable staircase up the 
snout. Three guides (Klucker, Pollinger and Kauf- 
mann), besides Mr. Whymper and myself, composed the 
party, which was the same as on the Habel climb. 



222 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

After an hour on the ice we came to a delightful 
stretch of heathery turf, gay with flowers and broken 
by clumps of trees, bushes and rocky outcrops. Several 
little streams cascade across it, coming down from the 
imposing walls of Yoho Peak above. It would be an 
absolutely ideal place for a climber's hut, giving about 
two hours' advantage over a starting-place in the valley, 
which on the vast snows of the Wapta neve would 
be invaluable under soft conditions. The glacier is 
considerably broken opposite this alp, but above it the 
neve commences, and ere long (7.30) we took to the 
ice, keeping away to the left on the upper glacier 
connected with Yoho Peak and, in its farther reaches, 
Mt. Collie, and leaving the main Wapta ice-field below 
us on the right. The configuration of the various 
snow-fields here is interesting ; the Habel and Wapta 
neves are separated by an upland plateau, running 
from the main ridge of Mt. Collie to Yoho Peak; cliffs 
occur along almost the entire length on either side, but 
occasional gaps permit the overflow from this upper 
glacier to connect with one or other of the larger 
fields. 

Our way lay nearly up the centre of the raised 
glacier, but crevasses drove us frequently towards the 
Habel side, and some fine views of that mountain were 
obtained. As we proceeded, the great stretch of the 
Wapta ice-field was more and more disclosed up to the 
Continental watershed, with Mt. Baker prominent above 
it in the distance. The snow was wonderfully satis- 
factory, and we plodded steadily along across a con- 



THE YOHO VALLEY 223 

siderable elevation running at right angles to the 
direction of our inarch, and dipped into a lower basin, 
where the snows embosomed between the two great 
arms of Mt. Collie sweep into the upper portion of the 
Wapta neve through a fine portal at the farther end of 
the line of cliffs retaining the higher glacier. 

Then we made for the main south-eastern arete of 
the mountain, crossed a large bergschrund, clambered 
up a steep and soft snow-slope and struck the ridge at 
about 10,100 feet at twenty minutes to eleven. At this 
point, though only four hundred feet below the summit, 
I struck for something to eat: we were six hours out 
from camp, and breakfast had been a light one ; the 
weather was perfect, and the top might still require some 
little time. The motion prevailing, we had a satisfac- 
tory rest and some refreshment before tackling the 
arete. This, though very narrow, proved of no difficulty, 
firm snow leading with scarcely a break right to the top, 
and thirty-five minutes sufficed for the ascent. 

The summit is formed by the converging of three 
sharp and long ridges, and is about 10,500 feet above the 
sea — a full hundred feet lower than Mt. Habel. The 
view is, naturally, very similar to that from the latter 
mountain, though more extended to the east; but, unfor- 
tunately (especially as Mr. Whymper's large camera had 
been brought along), a tremendous forest fire was raging 
somewhere near the headwaters of the Columbia River ; 
and, although we were more than eighty miles distant in 
an air-line, the smoke was sufficient to obscure almost 
the whole view towards the railroad and rendered even 



224 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

that to the north extremely indistinct. Mt. Habel was 
wonderfully impressive as we looked at it across a nar- 
row glacial pass from the edge of the absolutely perpen- 
dicular south-west face of our peak. In the opposite 
direction, the chief interest lay in ascertaining the practi- 
cability of glacier passes from the Yoho Valley in various 
directions, particularly to Bow Lake and Peyto Lake, at 
the headwaters respectively of the Bow River and the 
South Fork of the North Saskatchewan. 

Mt. Collie had been attempted once before, on the 
6th of August, 1898, by the Revs. H. P. Nichols and 
C. L. Noyes and Messrs. C. S. Thompson and G. M. 
Weed. Ascending from Bow Lake by way of the Bow 
Glacier, at 9 a.m. they reached an outcrop of rocks 
on the snow-field which marks the Divide. An hour 
later they commenced a toilsome trudge across the fast- 
softening snow towards the peak, suffering greatly from 
the intense heat. By noon they entered the trough of 
glacier above-mentioned as flowing from the summit 
to the Wapta neve, and worked their way up the snow- 
slopes of the southern face for some distance, finally 
turning directly to the edge of the eastern arete. 

" This way," writes Mr. Noyes, 1 " simple as it looked, 
developed difficulties which checked progress all the way 
and grew quite tantalizing. The snow was very soft, 
and seemed unstable to indefinite depths. Soon we 
found ourselves in to the thighs and going deeper at 
every step. This was not only disagreeable, but seemed 
dangerous, and proved so; for our footing was shelving 

1 Appalachian Vol. IX, p. 22. 



THE YOHO VALLEY 225 

down to the brink of a crevasse, into which the thrust of 
the axe at last broke so suddenly that the leader was 
glad of the steadying check of the rope from behind. 
This brusque stop was the more baffling because there 
was no surface sign of crevasse ; and as there turned out 
to be quite a series of them, running irregularly, with con- 
necting bridges thoroughly hidden by soft snow lying deep 
above, we could not see, but had literally to feel our way 
with scrupulous caution. A way there was, and at last, 
after much greater waste of time and patience than we 
could have forecast, we reached the gray ice above. . . . 
The edge soon rose into a parapet, along which we had 
to slab our way on crumbling screes of icy footing above 
the jaws of ragged schrunds. But the snow arete was 
close at hand, and we promised ourselves a cleaner if still 
stiff piece of climbing there. But it proved the turning 
point of our ascent and day's progress. Before we had 
made a rod along its edge, we found it undermined by a 
cavernous schrund ; beyond, it presented a nice dilemma 
between its crest dangerously corniced and a traverse 
over ice very steep and lubricated by melting snow ; and 
so on to the top the whole way bristled with obstruc- 
tions, each of which, manoeuvred past, would only lead 
to the next, as difficult or dangerous." 

It being then 4 p.m., they turned back, reaching their 
camp at ten o'clock. The conditions were against them, 
and, being without a professional guide and not experi- 
enced in such objectionable features as the neve and 
slopes of Mt. Collie certainly present, their failure is the 
less surprising. So it was left for us to be the first to 



226 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

attain the summit, without any difficulties, though the 
skill of Klucker on the glacier had much to do with the 
ease and comfort of our climb ; and I imagine that our 
ridge is possibly the simpler of the two. 

We stayed two and a half hours on the top, but 
photography was at a discount and bearings were un- 
satisfactory. Leaving, as usual, a stone-man to guard 
the summit, at 2.30 we commenced the descent, which 
was devoid of incident, except for a detour or two I 
made for photographs and special observations of the 
Wapta neve. In two hours we were on the flowery 
alp, and two more, in spite of several stops, saw us 
again in camp at half-past six. 

On the 21st we had a little climb to a ruined tower 
on a serrated spur of Mt. Balfour, which had been 
called by Mr. Habel "Trolltinder," or the Witch's Peaks, 
after a famous and much pinnacled ridge above the 
Romsdal in Norway: the legend saying that the points 
represent a wedding party turned to stone by an evil 
genius. 

It was an absurdly simple climb, though somewhat 
laborious, except for the last fifty feet, which gave us 
a really good gymnastic scramble. 

Leaving camp at 7.25, we crossed the glacier snout, 
descended the left bank of the river to its junction with 
a small cataract from one of the Balfour glaciers, and pro- 
ceeded up the steep right bank of this tributary. The 
rocks exposed here are of peculiarly brilliant red and yel- 
low striation in assorted widths, giving a striking effect 
in contrast with the dark trees, green undergrowth and 



THE YOHO VALLEY 227 

sparkling water. It is a not uncommon formation in the 
region and was met with again on Mt Assiniboine. I 
also found on the Yoho Glacier some remarkable pebbles, 
which we called glacier eggs. They were lying in small 
hollows in the ice, just like nests, six or eight pebbles in 
a nest, about the size of pigeons' eggs, worn perfectly 
smooth, white and almost circular. Doubtless it is a 
variation of moulin on a miniature scale. 

Going steadily, at 8.50 we were at the top of the steep 
ravine, and, crossing the stream, we worked diagonally to 
the south end of the main ridge. Thence it was a weari- 
some pull up sliding shale and scree to the base of the 
shattered tower, which is perched in isolation on the apex 
of the narrow ridge. I arrived, solus, at 10.50, but not 
quite liking the look of the last bit without a rope, waited 
for Mr. Whymper and the guides to arrive. 

Three sides of the massive block are absolutely sheer, 
two above precipices several hundred feet deep, and the 
third above the end of as jagged and sharp a set of rock- 
needles as ever graced a narrow ridge. On the fourth 
side fortunately the rock had broken of! in huge slabs, 
leaving a few ledges, extremely slippery and occasionally 
sloping disagreeably outward, with bare vertical faces 
four to six or seven feet in height. We were obliged to 
pull ourselves up from one to the other, or swing one leg 
to the level of the shoulder and thus get a purchase which 
enabled us to raise ourselves to the next story. 

From the tiny top of this quaint watch-tower, 9600 
feet in altitude, a fine view should be had on a clear day, 
but the smoke was still triumphant on the occasion of 



228 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

our visit. The larger peaks loomed through the haze 
like phantoms, and even the tributary valleys opposite 
(the Upper Yoho and Twin Falls) were hopeless for 
detail and photography: a great disappointment, as 
that was one of the chief objects of the ascent. Mt. 
Collie was singularly featureless from our position and 
elevation ; its broad, white face and steady upward gradi- 




ICE CASCADES ON MT. BALFOUR 



ent were so foreshortened as to appear almost flat, and, 
as Kaufmann remarked, " No one would say it was a 
mountain at all ! " Nevertheless, from some other points 
of view it is a really striking peak. Mt. Balfour was a 
splendidly imposing sight, an absolutely sheer precipice 
many hundred feet high and of considerable length ris- 
ing close in front of us. Then, lower down, across a 



THE YOHO VALLEY 



229 



ravine to the south-east, where a green lake lay peacefully 
radiant in the sunshine, were two extraordinary ice-cata- 
racts, perfectly vertical, like titanic columns of sculp- 
tured ice, hundreds of feet high, connecting the gla- 
ciers above and below the mighty cliff down which these 
frozen cascades had been precipitated. 

We made a lengthy sojourn on the summit and a 
leisurely descent in two hours and a half, with no occur- 
rences of note en route. 

Next morning, Kaufmann, Pollinger and I bade fare- 
well to our companions and the Yobo Valley, to seek an 
exit by a more novel and exciting route than the prosaic 
trail. Starting at six o'clock, we crossed the snout of the 
glacier and advanced up the moraine and debris on its 
left side, rounding the shoulder of a huge outlying spur 
of Mt. Balfour, until we reached a lateral valley between 
that mountain and Mt. Gordon. 

On the way we came across a bountiful supply of 
large ripe strawberries, growing abundantly on the bare, 
stony slopes at an altitude of more than 6000 feet, but 
time did not permit of more than a hurried sampling of 
them as we passed. The lateral valley, into which we 
turned at 7.15, is distinguished by a series of four flat, 
circular or oval basins, occupying the entire width of the 
valley, and separated by ramparts varying from fifty to 
two hundred feet in height. The lowest and largest has 
a most picturesque cascade, foaming through a rocky 
trough-like channel from the top of the grassy wall at 
the upper end. Climbing this steep barrier, which looks 
like a large dam, built right across the valley, we found 






2 3 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

a stone-strewn flat above ; the next basin higher was car- 
peted with bright green turf, whilst the topmost one was, 
in turn, stony, with a large glacier descending into it. 

The glacier-tongue has retreated and left a succession 
of outworks, formed of moraine deposit, some fully fifteen 
feet in height, barring the way to its icy territory. It is 
a desolate spot. Lofty cliffs, hung with ice, hem us in 
on either side; behind, is a scene of barren rock and 
glacier; and in front, another glacier (an outflow from 
the Waputik snow-field, with two giant arms, separated 
by a great wall of rock, over whose crest the central 
portion sweeps in constant avalanche) leads to the wide 
unbroken fields of neve and the dark precipices of Mt. 
Balfour. 

The snout is wide and spreading, so easy in gradient 
that no steps were necessary. Crossing one tongue, we 
approached another on the Mt. Gordon side, equally easy 
and buried in moraine. Following this up, most of the 
debris was soon left behind, but a remarkable medial 
moraine remained, acting as an indicator of the direction 
we ought to take. Sometimes on this, sometimes on the 
snow at the side, we tramped gayly along and reached 
the broad plateau of the pass (named Balfour Pass) at 
about half-past eight. It is difficult to say where the 
centre of the pass occurs, so broad and level is the sum- 
mit of the Divide, but the altitude is approximately 8400 
feet. The medial moraine continues without a break 
right across the Divide, stretching like a rough road 
the whole way from the Yoho end to the ice-fall of the 
Balfour Glacier. 



THE YOHO VALLEY 231 

Here Mt. Hector came in sight, and shortly afterwards 
we could see Hector Lake, very gloomy in its dark setting 
at the base of the frowning cliffs that confine its som- 
bre waters. The day was cloudy, some drops of rain 
falling about noon, and the smoky atmosphere helped 
to deepen the tone of murkiness. 

The lie of the land being quite unknown to us, — 
none of us had ever been in the Upper Bow Valley before, 
— we got into difficulties by taking too direct a line 
towards the lake, and before long we were pulled up on 
the verge of a huge vertical cliff and could see no feasible 
way of getting to its base, so we prospected on the side 
of the glacier-tongue, as likely to be the more direct and 
practicable route. This led to an extremely interesting 
descent from our lofty situation to its broken surface, 
which we crossed just above a splendid ice-fall. The 
glacier was much crevassed, both longitudinally and 
latitudinally, but Pollinger displayed great skill in find- 
ing a way, with scarcely a moment's hesitation, amongst 
the intricacies of the maze of fissures ; and we went 
frequently at a run down the steep slopes and slender 
ridges between the big crevasses ! 

Whilst crossing the tongue we perceived that the 
better route would be to follow the medial moraine clear 
down to the ice-fall, which appeared not only practicable 
but quite simple. The lower ice-fall is absolutely im- 
passable, so we took to 'the rocks on the southern side, 
skirting the base of the cliffs at a hand-gallop, for show- 
ers of stones and ice were almost continuous. A short 
distance farther we were able to get on to a large tribu- 



232 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

tary glacier from the south, which has a fine, regular 
tongue, down which we had no difficulties to negotiate. 
An effective view of the Balfour ice-fall and the great 
cliff opposite, which had impeded our advance, was ob- 
tained from the glacier, and a graceful cascade stream- 
ing down the lofty face of rock added considerably to its 
charm. 




THE BALFOUR ICE-FALL 



The junction of the two glaciers was soon passed and 
we were off the ice by ten o'clock, only four hours from 
camp in spite of the detours ! At the point of the 
tongue was a magnificent cavern of enormous size, from 
which a considerable stream debouched, flowing through 
stony flats for about a mile before it merged with the 
green waters of the lake. 



THE YOHO VALLEY 233 

We had a very bad time of it when we struck the 
north shore of the lake. Afterwards we were told the 
south side was much better, but the problem of crossing 
the Bow River below the lake would have been a most 
serious one, and for a horseless party probably our 
rugged route was really best. All traces of a trail had 
disappeared, so we had to fight our way through a track- 
less tangle of trees and shrubs, frequently being driven 
to the water's edge, where, partly in the lake and partly 
on the banks or sundry stones, we worried along as 
best we could. 

It was a toilsome and disagreeable process. At 
noon we halted for lunch and three-quarters of an hour's 
rest.. After that the way improved somewhat ; the 
woods thinned, but* numerous muskegs took their place. 
At half -past one we reached the Bow River, just above 
its entrance to the lake, and crossed it by a convenient 
fallen tree. Twenty minutes later, after some circuitous 
wandering, we struck the trail down the Bow Valley, 
and thenceforth had a beaten track to follow. 

Going pretty hard, — for we were unaware how long 
it would take to get to civilization, — with one or two 
brief halts, we arrived at Laggan at 6 p.m., and were 
not sorry to rest in the comfort of the Lake Louise 
Chalet at the close of our long and arduous journey, 
which, though accomplished in twelve hours, is really 
a tremendous day's expedition. 



CHAPTER IX 

THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 

This picturesque group of fine peaks, surrounded 
and intersected by beautiful valleys, and containing 
several striking glaciers, was practically unknown up to 
the summer of 1901, yet it is without doubt one of 
the most interesting corners of the Rocky Mountains, 
and possesses attractions far beyond the ordinary for 
the artist, scientist, and mountaineer. 

The noble snow-crowned summit of Mt. Vaux is a 
conspicuous and magnificent object from the Emerald 
Lake region and the heights round Field, and it is 
also visible from the railroad track west of that station. 
Seen from Emerald Lake on a summer evening, softly 
glowing with the delicate rosy lustre or flashing brill- 
iantly beneath the red-gold glory of the sinking sun, 
framed by the dark rocks and sombre pines of the 
southern portals of the intervening valley, its graceful 
form and wondrous hues reflected in the peaceful, paling 
waters, Mt. Vaux presents a picture to live forever in 
the inmost shrine of one's most cherished memories. 

The Chancellor, again, that mighty pyramid whose 
frowning precipices, black and forbidding, loom aloft 
nigh upon 7000 feet above the Kicking Horse River, 
cannot fail to impress the traveller with a sense of 

234 







235 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 237 

awe and grandeur, as he approaches eastward from 
the grim gateway of the Lower Canyon or passes along 
its base at Leanchoil. 

Mt. Goodsir, however, the third great peak of the 
group, greatest and grandest though it be, is scarcely 
known to any but the few who have been privileged to 
scale one of the loftier heights along the line ; although 
the western tower, remarkable, even in the diminution 
of distance, from its massive character and strikingly over- 
hanging attitude, and the main peak behind it, can be 
seen from the windows of the railroad car at the far end 
of the vista of dark cliffs and rugged points that over- 
top the wooded southern slopes of the Ottertail Valley. 
From almost every mountain top and some honoured 
few of the lesser and more accessible altitudes within 
an immense area of the Rocky Mountain and Selkirk 
Ranges, the triple mass of Mt. Goodsir is a marked fea- 
ture of the landscape, towering aloft a thousand feet 
above the tallest of its immediate neighbours, striking 
in form and most impressive in its stately grandeur. 

The area covered by this splendid trio of mountains 
and their lowlier attendants is roughly rhomboidal in 
form, with sides ten to twelve miles in length, bounded 
on the east by Goodsir Creek and the headwaters of the 
Beaverfoot River, which turns at an acute angle round 
the southern extremity and continues as a boundary on 
the south-west; westward by the Kicking Horse, and 
on the north by the Ottertail Creek. In the centre, the 
mountain mass is cleft by a narrow V-shaped valley, 
down which a rushing, swirling torrent pursues its head- 



238 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

long course ; a beautiful spot, cradled between the double 
ranks of rugged, snow-hung crags that form the ridges 
trending southward, peak on peak, from Mt. Goodsir's 
and the Chancellor's proud eminence. 

Far up, the valley-head is closed abruptly by a wall 
of cliffs, down which the gleaming, broken waters of 
several picturesque cascades leap from ledge to ledge, 
like threads and bands of silver, from the upper slopes 
of snow and glistening parapet of ice that crowns the 
whole and acts as sponsor to the river and its valley-bed. 

Another interest of this small but fascinating gem of 
Nature's handiwork is found in its peculiar formation 
from a geologic point of view. Almost alone and to 
by far the greatest extent, so far as is at present known, 
amongst the hosts of ranges in the Canadian Rocky 
Mountain chain, the Ottertail Group provides exception 
to the prevailing Middle Cambrian to Lower Carbonifer- 
ous strata, and here a belt of syenite runs right athwart 
the centre of the limestone mass from east to west, severed 
itself by the sudden cleavage of the Ice River Valley. 

Considerable mineral wealth is likely to be stored 
within the rocky treasure-house of these everlasting 
hills; zinc, mica, sodalite, and the richer ores have 
already yielded their quota to the miner. It is also a 
good region for the sportsman; the woods that clothe 
the lower slopes, the bleaker ridges, and the broken 
crags, harbour the bear and deer and offer advantageous 
haunts for mountain goats, whilst silvery trout gleam in 4 
the streams below. 

Albeit thus prominently situated in full view of rail- 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 



239 



road engineers, surveyors, and the countless throng of 
tourists journeying along this favourite line, since the 
days when Dr. Hector, as far back as 1858, skirted the 
mountains' base as he proceeded down the Beaverfoot 
and up the Kicking Horse Rivers, pausing at the mouth 
of the Ice River; past the far later date of 1885, when 
Dr. Dawson visited the region in his geological survey; 
but for an Indian hunter now and then, or a stray pro- 
spector passing through in search of richer prey, the 
beauties and the grandeur of these vales and peaks have 
lain unnoticed, unappreciated all these years. 

Such is the district whose rumoured treasures filled 
the hearts and minds of at least three poor mortals with 
eager desire to explore ; treasures of scenery, healthful 
vigour, and of boundless opportunity. The peaks looked 
difficult enough to tempt the most blase of mountaineers. 
The charm of the unknown added its potent influence. 
The tales of prospectors assured us of an interesting 
expedition. So Professor Fay, Mr. J. H. Scattergood 
and I arranged to make this our first objective point in 
the campaign of 1901. 

Mr, Scattergood had already established a pre- 
scriptive right to be the first climber to attempt the 
three great peaks. The previous summer, lured by 
the possibilities of mountaineering and topography, 
he had endeavoured to ascend Mt. Vaux and throw 
some light on the vexed question of the nomenclature 
of the district. Misled by the vagueness of the in- 
formation he was able to obtain, he and his guides, 
Jacob Muller and Christian Hasler, climbed the peak 



240 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

which terminates the ridge on the east side of the 
valley, under the impression that it was Mt. Vaux. 
He subsequently discovered that this was a mistake, 
and gave • the name of Mollison to the mountain, in 
honour of the hospitable manager at Field Hotel. 

The route taken involved a wide detour, as they went 
by train to Palliser and had a long tramp thence up 
the valley of the Beaverfoot. Four hours on the after- 
noon of August 1 8th, and more than twelve of journey- 
ing the following day, brought them to the mountain's 
base, where they bivouacked at an altitude of 430a 
feet. On the morning of the 20th they were off at 
3.45, in perfect weather, and, after an easy climb of five 
hours and a half, including halts, they reached the 
summit, 9350 feet above the sea. The return march, 
like the journey in, proved most laborious, timber and 
rivers combining to delay and to discomfort them. 
Another night was spent among the trees, after a 
twenty-hour day, and four and a half hours more were 
necessary to bring them back to Palliser. 

Professor Fay had long had designs upon this par- 
ticular region, so we three, with Christian Hasler, started 
from Field on July 15th, with a laborious programme in 
prospect, but in the highest spirits and full of con- 
fidence. Miss Mollison, Mr. Duchesnay and Mr. Carey, 
of the Canadian Pacific Railway, with kindly interest 
afforded us all possible advantages, and helped our 
expedition in many ways ; so, on a brilliant morning, 
seated on the cowcatcher of a locomotive, surrounded 
by impedimenta of knapsacks, ropes, and ice-axes, we 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 241 

were speeding down the grade en route for Ottertail 
bridge, from which point we were to leave civilization, 
as represented by the railroad and a miner's shack, and 
plunge into the solitude of the mountain fastnesses. 

Mr. Lindsay, the owner of a silver-lead mine close 
to the bridge, gave us a hospitable welcome and a 
hearty send-off, entertaining us to dinner and supply- 
ing us with some information about the valley. Then, 
shouldering our packs, at one o'clock we started off 
with his good wishes ringing in our ears. 

A recently constructed trail leads for some miles 
up the valley, which heads in towards the south-east, 
but it was overgrown in places and occasionally blocked 
by fallen timber, over or under which we were obliged 
to climb or creep. A hot sun and the weight of our 
baggage made us glad that we had but a short pro- 
gramme for the day and plenty of time. We followed 
the trail for about three miles, most of the way high 
above the rushing stream, and later converging towards 
it, till we crossed the torrent by a rustic bridge, close to 
its junction with a tributary from the south, and mean- 
dered up the banks of this smaller branch, named Has- 
kin Creek. An ancient trail assisted us for some little 
distance, but soon we were obliged to turn into the 
trackless forest that clothes the eastern slopes. 

The chief disadvantage of pioneer mountaineering 
is the laborious nature of travel below the timber-line. 
Trails are few and far between, often ancient, over- 
grown and covered with fallen tree-trunks. Sometimes 
they are practically only blazed, and usually are absent 



242 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

altogether. Every year, however, sees a marvellous 
difference in the facilities for reaching both near and 
distant points of beauty and of interest, through the 
energetic development of the district by the Canadian 
Pacific Railway Company and the Government, so that 
the approaches nowadays are easy to all but the most 
out-of-the-way peaks. 

This afternoon we were very fortunate ; the grade 
was steep, but the woods were comparatively open. 
Still, the weighty packs upon our unaccustomed shoul- 
ders, all out of condition as we were, gave us work 
enough. 

An open-air bivouac and the uncertainties of moun- 
tain exploration necessitate considerable impedimenta. 
Between us we bowed beneath the accumulation of two 
full days' provisions, changes of garments, blankets for 
the night, mackintoshes, aneroids, compasses, levels, cam- 
eras, and other minor paraphernalia, including a large 
axe. Our leisurely ascent continued till half-past six, 
when we reached the timber-limit and sought a snug 
location for the night. 

Unfortunately our desire to be as high as possible, in 
view of the next day's prospects, outweighed our discre- 
tion, and, while wood was plentiful and shelter abundant, 
the third desideratum of a camp could not be found in 
combination at that altitude, and the nearest water was 
fifteen minutes' scramble from our halting-place. Rather 
than descend, we made a pilgrimage to the cascade, and 
had our supper at its side, returning to the shelter of the 
trees, where we built a huge fire, cut down pine branches 






THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 243 

for our beds, rolled ourselves in blankets, put our boots 
beneath our heads, and wooed sweet slumber with more 
or less success. 

Morning began to dawn with fair promise ; we broke 
camp at 3.50 and halted a quarter of an hour later by the 
stream for breakfast, — a somewhat chilly repast, owing 
to the early hour, the frost of the previous night, our 
exposed situation, and the ice-cold beverage which had 
to take the place of tea. At 4.40 we were again on the 
march, striking upward towards a noticeable dip between 
Mt. Hurd, the northern outpost of the massif, and Mt. 
Vaux. 

An hour's steady going over firm snow and easy 
rocks brought us to the base of a steep snow-curtain, 
up which we zigzagged and soon stood upon the broad 
expanse of Hurd Pass, face to face with a resplendent 
vision of snowy ranges, glistening in the morning rays, 
as peak after peak of the mighty Selkirks pierced the 
sky. Several of these, Sir Donald, Dawson, Eagle Peak, 
and others, were recognized as old friends, but even more 
interesting at the moment were the steep sides of Mt. 
Vaux, now first revealed to us at close range. We were 
relieved to note that the one hitherto unseen portion of 
our projected route appeared quite feasible ; for we had 
no previous knowledge of the character of one interven- 
ing section between Hurd Pass and the upper elevation 
of Mt. Vaux, which might have presented difficulties 
insurmountable and rendered futile all our plans. 

After a halt to photograph and enjoy the landscape, 
we turned southward and entered on a rocky scramble 



244 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

along a broken, jagged arete for nigh upon an hour, stop- 
ping at 7.30 for a brief repast on a narrow col at the base 
of a lofty, very steep snow-dome that barred our progress 
towards the highest peak and had to be surmounted. 
Great ice-cliffs fell sheer to the Ottertail slopes upon 
our left, whilst it was equally impossible to work a way 
round to the right, so over the top we had to go. This 
proved the most fatiguing portion of the climb ; the ac- 
clivity was at a very sharp angle and rose fully 800 feet 
above our resting-place ; and, laden as we were, on this 
our first ascent of the season, breath soon became a scant 
commodity. Twice we stayed for a brief respite ere we 
gained the summit at an altitude of about 9950 feet. 

From this coign of vantage we had an unobstructed 
view of Mt. Vaux's topmost glacial peak immediately in 
front, offering an easy access to its hitherto untrodden 
pinnacle. A glorious view of our three objective moun- 
tains was disclosed; Mt. Vaux, in spotless purity, with 
giant cliffs abruptly falling to the Kicking Horse on the 
right, and the stately flow of its magnificent glacier trend- 
ing majestically to the left, walled in by the low parapet 
that, on its farther side, drops almost sheer into the val- 
ley of the Ottertail. 

Above it rose the black, forbidding precipice of 
Chancellor, fringed to the east by hanging-glaciers ; and 
farther yet, the awesome western tower of Mt. Goodsir, 
with its castellated buttresses and almost overhanging 
northern face. 

One only drawback threatened in the mass of 
ominous clouds that were now sweeping towards us 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 245 

from the western ranges and across the Beaverfoots : 
so we descended hurriedly to the dip that separated 
us from the highest peak, and, leaving our packs upon 
the snowy col, climbed the slope of neve that sweeps 
away below us to the south-east, bearing well to the 
left to avoid the great crevasses that barred a direct 
approach and circling towards its narrowing final 
ridge. 

Long ere we gained it, we were wrapped in clouds ; 
hail fell with tingling force, swept by the rising wind ; 
flashes of vivid lightning cleft the murky curtain of 
advancing storm, and thunder crashed above us and 
reechoed far and near from crag to crag. Thus we 
struggled upward to our goal, at length arriving on 
the snow-clad apex, where, in front, the precipices 
yawned in awe-inspiring suggestion of immensity below, 
as, through the wreathing billowy clouds, we looked 
down into space apparently unlimited. 

For half an hour we huddled on this narrow ridge 
of snow, some 10,750 feet above sea-level, with the 
thermometer below the freezing-point, whitened with 
falling flakes and hail. Occasionally fleeting but 
precious glimpses of the world around were gained ; 
no simultaneous panorama, but spectacular effects of 
peak and vale, gleaming in sunlight often, beyond the 
pathway of the transient storm. With chilly fingers 
aneroids, level and compass were manipulated at lucid 
intervals, but at 11. 15 we deemed it best to beat an 
ignominious retreat, and ran down rapidly to where 
our nick-sacks lay almost engulfed in snow. Thence 



246 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

we followed the glacier, glancing up at the Chancellor 
again and again to see if any route suggested itself up 
the rugged northern side, but in vain. 

The weather rapidly improved, the sun shone out 
again, and the views extended, though the loftier peaks 
were mostly veiled in mist. By good going over easy 
snow we soon arrived at the rim of the great cirque 
of ice-hung cliff and craggy steep, which closes in the 
head of the Ice River Valley. It lay below us in its 
beauty, the brightness of its verdure, far beneath us, 
threaded by the clear, winding river, sparkling in its 
tumultuous course; the sombre pine-clad slopes merge 
into snow-tipped pinnacles, bare, rugged cliffs and beet- 
ling, broken crags ; and, away beyond its bounds, in 
striking contrast, a line of bright ethereal mountains 
closes in the view. 

It was with feelings of satisfaction that we descried, 
far down the river-bank, a small white tent, sheltered 
by trees, with curling smoke hard by, and horses 
tethered in a rich tract of pasturage beside the water's 
edge. This was to be our home for the next few days. 
Our packer, Ross Peecock, had come up by the Beaver- 
foot trail, and now awaited our arrival by the untried 
route over the mountain-wall. 

Snow-slopes led steeply downward, affording some 
glissades, until the cliffs arrested progress and demanded 
careful searching by ledge and cleft to find a passage 
to their base, and caution during the abrupt descent. 
Eventually, after an awkward crossing of the foaming 
glacial torrent and a swift glissade over the hard snow 






THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 247 

at the foot of the cliffs, we reached the valley and 
made our way along the river-bank, plunging through 
thickets of alder and willow, crossing and recrossing 
the ever growing stream, till finally the welcome camp 
appeared, and Peecock greeted us with voice and 
teapot. 

A bath in the swift-flowing, ice-fed creek was the 
first delight, and then we looked around our new quar- 
ters to make arrangements for the night. 

At the first blush things did not seem too grand ; 
for a misunderstanding as to the supplies had most 
unfortunately arisen. The tent was only large enough 
for three instead of five, and kitchen and dining-room 
utensils were provided for but a solitary man. How- 
ever, there was food enough to last the week out, and 
to a cheerful party like ours the situation was not 
bad enough to spoil our appetites or joviality. Forks, 
spoons and ladles soon were fashioned out of wood, 
smooth slabs of stone did duty for the plates, condensed- 
milk cans, retired from public life, made serviceable 
cups, whilst, for the night, a bower, formed of poles 
and boughs, provided a superior sleeping-apartment 
(except during thunder-showers), and Mr. Scattergood 
and I took up our quarters there. 

An excellent hot supper and a lovely night succeeded 
in due course, with well-earned rest till far into the morn- 
ing, which was spent in laziness and minor occupations. 
Hasler displayed great ingenuity and skill in fixing up 
an ice-axe, the shaft of which had broken off close to the 
point, and which was now repointed as a baby axe some 



248 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

thirty inches long. Peecock was busy baking a supply 
of bannocks for our next expedition, and some of us after 
our conflict with the brush had tailoring to do. 

In the afternoon we started off to bivouac high up, 
preparatory to an assault on Mt. Goodsir on the morrow. 
From our headquarters, at an altitude of about 5000 feet, 
we walked some little distance down the valley, then 
turned to the left, up the steep, sparsely timbered slope 
to round the rugged shoulder of Mt. Goodsir's south-west 
buttress. Here several tracks of bear were seen, but we 
had not the good fortune of our packer, who, the previous 
afternoon, close by the camp, had watched for a full hour 
a large-sized grizzly disporting himself on these very 
slopes. 

A stiff and steady pull took us to timber-line, and 
as we turned into a lofty torrent valley that drains the 
southern side of Mt. Goodsir, that splendid mountain 
burst upon our gaze. 

Across a rough expanse of debris rose the titanic 
mass, crowned by a long, serrated sky-line with three 
huge peaks, from which its mighty ribs and snowy 
couloirs descend to meet us, overhung by rugged cliffs 
and broken pinnacles ; westward the formidable, bare, 
black tower that had been visible along the line of our 
approach from Field ; eastward, the thin-ridged triangle 
of the highest point, set obliquely on a high-pitched 
gable ; and between the two a smaller peak rises upon 
the sharp connecting ridge. 

On the green tongue that forms the base of the great 
central buttress, under twin trees that made a spreading 






THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 



249 



canopy above our heads, we bivouacked some 6800 feet 
above the sea, beside a tiny brook. The fire lighted, 
fuel gathered in, branches cut down and strewn to form 
our beds, all things made snug, we supped in luxury and 




Photo, by] 



MT. GOODSIR 
From Mt. Stephen 



II. Lanyiuuir 



laid ourselves down to rest, conscious that next day 
would bring us genuine work to do, a giant to be wres- 
tled with, one of the noblest in the land. 

With brilliant radiance, Jupiter, the evening star, 
rose over the ridge of Mt. Goodsir, and soon the cloud- 
less heavens were studded close with gleaming stars, 
which kept watch over us, whilst the murmur of the 
falling water crooned a lullaby. 

An early rousing was in store for us. Breakfast was 
quickly over, our blankets and superfluous baggage hung 



250 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

in the trees to keep them from the inquisitive and vora- 
cious attentions of the marmots, and at 3.45 we were on 
the march. 

Crossing a long tongue of snow to the east of our 
camp, we commenced the ascent by the long ridge lead- 
ing to the prominent eastern shoulder of the chief sum- 
mit. The gradient at first was easy and the going fairly 
good, so rapid progress was made. High up we passed 
one of the location-posts of an adventurous prospector's 
claim, and, after ascending 2000 feet in an hour and a 
half, reached the first snow upon the ridge. Amongst 
other geological " finds," we came across several speci- 
mens of a brilliant blue stone, like lapis lazuli, called 
sodalite, which is to be found in immense quantities 
in the Ice River district, but has not been met with 
elsewhere in the Rocky Mountains. 

Slopes of talus and broken rocks marked the way 
for another seven hundred feet, and then, at about 9500 
feet, we roped at six o'clock. The character of the climb 
soon changed. The arete grew steeper, narrower, more 
broken. The rocks, like those of almost every mountain 
in the Rockies yet explored, were friable and often broke 
away at the slightest touch ; sometimes large pieces of 
an apparently solid mass would split off or tear away 
when least expected. This in itself necessitates inces- 
sant care, not only on one's own account, but also for 
the sake of those below. Snow, too, lay fairly deep and 
covered treacherous holds, and here and there the rocks 
were glazed with a thin coating of fresh ice, which 
added largely to the difficulty of the way. 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 251 

Our progress consequently became extremely te- 
dious, yet it was progress. Now we were balancing upon 
the attenuated crest of a steep ridge ; now traversing 
beneath a spire we could not overtop, edging along 
the slippery ledges above deep ravines, down which 
loose stones were bounding in a suggestive fashion to 
join the mass of debris far below. 

Two hours and a half spent in covering thirteen 
hundred feet was certainly not a certificate of speed 
for our party, but it was full of interest almost all the 
way, and we imagined that there was no tremendous 
cause for hurry. It was now 8.30, and a halt for rest 
and breakfast was in order, as we felt that both had 
been fairly earned. Certainly both were thoroughly 
enjoyed. 

Here in our lofty eyrie, 10,800 feet above sea-level, 
— already more than a hundred feet above Mt. Vaux, — 
we drank in the pure air and rejoiced in the scenery 
around us. To the north and north-west our mountain 
was all our view ; but beyond the jagged arete of ' our 
ascent, with glistening cornices overhanging its upper 
rim, rose in the foreground the boundary range between 
the Ice River and Beaverfoot headwaters ; across the 
former valley the Chancellor and his long line of 
attendant peaks ; above, beyond them all, stretching 
to either side as far as eye could reach, white crests, 
sharp pinnacles, and glacier fields — the Selkirks, mon- 
archs of the western realms. Yet farther to the left, 
the mountains bounding the Vermilion Valley are the 
first to catch the glance, then distant Mt. Assiniboine, 



252 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

a head and shoulders taller than his fellows, Mt. Ball 
and countless lesser eminences. 

But there is plenty to be done before the day is 
ended. A few minutes bring us to the angle of the 
eastern shoulder, and an extremely narrow, nearly hori- 
zontal ridge intervenes between us and a ruddy cliff 
that forms the base of the great final peak. It is a 
picturesque, yet somewhat fearsome, ridge. A spotless 
curtain of pure snow hangs draped by Nature's supreme 
hand on either side, as steep as snow will cling, cor- 
niced along almost its entire length of some four 
hundred feet with delicate, clean-cut crests, some large, 
some small, and two reversed. We balance sometimes 
actually on the narrow edge ; anon we traverse gingerly 
along the slopes of snow, a soft, insidious hiss of won- 
derful suggestiveness greeting each step, as the top 
snow slides downward at the touch, and, gathering 
speed and volume, races to the bottom in a miniature 
avalanche. 

"Thus, forward to the cliff, a straight-up, almost 
smooth wall, a hundred feet or more in height. At 
first, gymnastic exercises, with scarcely a crevice for 
hand or foot to rest upon, are needful ; then, bearing 
round above the glorious depths of the precipitous 
northern face, we find a cleft, up which we clamber with- 
out difficulty but extremely carefully, for loose stones 
abound and cannonade the men below. One larger 
mass almost capsized Mr. Scattergood, breaking off in 
his hands, and it was with great difficulty that he pre- 
vented it descending on my devoted head. 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 



253 



• As I, who am the last upon the rope, appear above 
the edge of the buttress, I see by my companions' faces 
that something out of the common lies ahead, and that 
it bodes ill for the completion of the climb. The 
prospect of defeat is staring us full in the face. 

A marvellous ridge it is upon whose lower extremity 
we stand, worth coming all this way to see, even if it 
does spell defeat. Far longer than the last, far nar- 
rower. A snowy curtain still depends upon our right, 
stretching into depths five or six thousand feet below, 
and much too steep to dream of setting foot upon. 
Upon the left, the snow has yielded place to rock too 
sheer for snow to rest on, and without a ledge, 
apparently, by which a traverse could be made. Then, 
in the centre, first a single heavy cornice, before the 
rock becomes too steep for snow, and, farther on, a 
spectacle that I had never seen or read of previously, 
and which is unequalled in the experience of several 
experts I have since consulted, — a triple cornice, with 
the central flange reversed, two springing from the rock- 
face upon a base but a few inches wide. 

Two alternatives alone suggest themselves to over- 
come this formidable barrier. The one, to beat down 
all the cornices with the ice-axes, — a tremendous job; 
the other, to tread down a narrow pathway, exactly above 
the razor-edged ridge which forms the base of each, 
and, balancing without a touch to right or left along 
this aerial kind of tight-rope, with a fall of several thou- 
sand feet upon each side and the possibility of the entire 
cornice breaking off as we pass, to gain the farther side. 



254 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The consultation was not a lengthy one, for our party 
was not expert enough for such a feat. Moreover, it 
would have occupied considerable time, and one member 
of the party was already thinking with much anxiety of 
the glissading snow-slopes of the lower ridge. So, with 
a swift survey of the extensive panorama, now including 
all the northern mountains near the railway along the 
Continental backbone, and many farther still, and a final 
lingering look on Mt. Goodsir's yet unconquered summit 
(scarcely a hundred and fifty feet above and not two 
hundred yards away), we clambered down our awkward 
rocky wall, crept softly along the treacherous arete, and 
sorrowfully retraced our steps, by cliff and ice-slope, 
scree and snow, down to our bivouac at 4 p.m. 

The turn was made at half-past ten, when our eleva- 
tion was estimated (the mean of three aneroids) at about 
11,300 feet. 1 

From bivouac to lower camp took but little more 
than an hour, rain falling as we neared our goal, with 
promise of a heavy shower and more to follow. So it 
turned out, and our improvised shelter of branches 
proved most inadequate against the torrents of a suc- 
cession of thunder-storms. A huge fire, replenished at 
intervals during the night, kept us warm, and we were 
none the worse, though neither Mr. Scattergood nor I 
obtained much sleep amidst the drip and splash of baby 
waterfalls. 

Morning broke with clouds enveloping the mountain- 

1 In the light of subsequent investigations it is probable that our altitude 
was at least two hundred feet greater. 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 255 

tops and a more than doubtful weather prospect. Long 
deliberation eventuated in a determination to try Mt. 
Chancellor next day, going to a high camp as usual 
in the afternoon, and sending off our horses and para- 
phernalia to Leanchoil. 

The day improved as it wore on. Some pictures 
were obtained, and after dinner we mounted the thickly 
wooded slopes along the course of a torrent that de- 
scends in bold cascades from a high side valley opening 
from the west just opposite our camp ; our purpose being 
to try the ascent by the long spur which strikes the main 
arete about a mile from the highest peak. 

At our usual altitude of about 6800 feet, we found a 
spot in which to spend the night ; and, as thunder-clouds 
looked threatening, at once prepared an elaborate nest, 
hollowed amongst the roots of a large spruce fir, and 
filled in with small trees and branches. It looked a cozy 
retreat, and it was wonderfully waterproof; but, alas, 
when we turned in, we found it had one serious defect. 
The surface of our quadruple bed was not completely 
level, and, being by mischance at the lower end, I was 
soon conscious of a great oppression, as Professor Fay, 
crushed downward by the ponderous forms of our two 
heavy-weights, forced me against the barrier of spiky 
trunks and boughs which closed us in. Hours of expos- 
tulation and hilarity, varied by experiments of a serious 
and jocular nature, which gravity defied and defied grav- 
ity, culminated in an uneasy slumber, from which we 
rose without much reluctance at an early hour. 

The storm of the previous afternoon, a grand display 



256 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

of vivid lightning, and tremendous thunder which rever- 
berated almost interminably among the mountains 
round, had cleared away at sunset and given us an 
immortal vision (like a peep into the glories of Para- 
dise) of Mt. Goodsir, powdered with fresh, sparkling 
snow alight with crimson flames and circled by soft, 
clinging wreaths of tenuous cloud, most delicately 
tinged with tender roseate hues and palest gold. 

Now, in the brilliance of a cloudless sky, the sun 
rose clear and augured well ; 4.40 saw us on the move, 
beginning with a wearisome ascent up slopes of fine, 
sandy debris, which slipped beneath our feet at every 
step. At half -past five we struck the edge of the spur 
at 8000 feet, and, during a brief halt to inspect our 
route, had a delightful view of ten or a dozen moun- 
tain goats, browsing and clambering about on another 
spur a long way down. 

Then up to the main arete, to reach which required 
the cutting of a breach through the long cornice which 
extended right across the point of junction. This 
ridge stretches almost due south from the summit of 
Mt. Chancellor and contains ten minor peaks, end- 
ing rather abruptly in the angle between the Ice River 
and the Beaverfoot Valleys. The point we now were 
on was the fourth and attained an altitude of about 
9000 feet. Three more remained to be traversed before 
we could reach the dip at the base of the chief peak, 
and the arete was long and often narrow, much broken 
by gendarmes, especially towards the farther end. It 
was evident that our course must lie practically 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 257 

along the crest of the ridge, and that none of the sum- 
mits could be avoided. All went well for some time ; 
the work was interesting, if slow, and we had struck 
an igneous outcrop, the syenite was firm and solid, 
and good grips and stable foot-holds were the rule. 
Nevertheless, with fresh snow covering much of 
the mountain, all traverses had to be extremely cau- 
tiously undertaken, and there were a considerable 
number of them, varied by grand gymnastics on the 
pinnacles. 

The ridge proved infinitely more serrated than we 
imagined. The gendarmes multiplied into squads and 
companies. Spires and towers fifty and sixty feet high 
had to be scaled, their summits traversed and an abrupt 
descent immediately made. A few yards only would 
be gained in actual advance, and in a moment or two 
the process would have to be repeated. 

Huge cornices frequently hung over on the eastern 
side, above great glaciers that yawned with gaping 
fissures, and sometimes there would be a spell of our 
old enemy, the limestone, so that an almost sheer 
finger of rock, protruding abruptly from a ridge two to 
three thousand feet in height, would have to be nego- 
tiated with the warning from the ever watchful Hasler, 
"You must not touch the snow, and that rock" (point- 
ing to the only one which could apparently be utilized 
at all) " is not safe ! " On the tops of one or two pin- 
nacles the edge was so intensely narrow that some mem- 
bers of the party sat astride and worked themselves 
along it in that posture, whilst I preferred to grasp the 



258 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

crest and worry across the less vertical side by the 
aid of friction. And all the while these acrobatic 
performances had to be perpetrated we were loaded 
with heavy packs. 

At length, in front of an even more perpendicular 
tower than before, we faced the situation. Several 
more gendarmes intervened before the Chancellor Peak 
itself could be attained ; a long and difficult scramble 
was assured upon its slopes, probably a four-hour job 
for our weak party; provisions remained for only two 
more light repasts ; no knowledge was possessed as to 
the possibility of a descent upon the western side, by 
which it was practically imperative to make our way ; 
and it was twelve o'clock. To go on seemed to render 
inevitable a night out on the mountain, perhaps at a 
great elevation, and we had no food for another day. 
One of our number, in addition to the other considera- 
tions, did not at all like the appearance of the gendarmes 
ahead, and reminded us that he had a wife and family at 
home ; so discretion was deemed the better part, and 
sadly, for the second time in three days, we retraced 
our steps, repulsed. 

Returning to the top of the last peak surmounted 
(that nearest to the main summit), we had some lunch 
and then descended the buttress towards Leanchoil. A 
long, steep slope of snow came next, down which we 
plunged, my lengthy strides and rapid gait obtaining for 
me (who led) emphatic and reiterated objurgations, but 
we arrived in fairly good condition at the bottom and 
turned into the wide, deep couloir directly south of 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 259 

Mt. Chancellor's black pyramid. We soon unroped and 
were able to make our own way and speed along its 
snowy course, till a sudden drop between two splendid 
precipices compelled us to make a detour across several 
ribs of rotten rock, supporting the mountain's base, down 
gullies full of shifting scree to timber-line, and thence, 
through swamps and bushes and over countless fallen 
logs, to the broad flats opposite Leanchoil station at five 
o'clock. 

Here, alas, the river barred our way and was impas- 
sable without a boat or horses. We had heard of a boat, 
but our search for it was vain. Peecock was waiting 
with the horses, but we struck the river too high, and, 
through a misunderstanding, failed to make connection. 
So we were compelled by force of circumstances to try 
the trail that, we had been informed, led by the east bank 
of the Kicking Horse to Ottertail, where the railroad 
crosses the river. 

Five miles does not sound a lengthy journey, even 
to tired men, but distance is not always the only con- 
sideration. The trail proved to be of great antiquity; 
often it was quite obliterated ; at best it was indistinct, 
difficult to trace and constantly blocked. Its devious 
nature, false turnings, scrambling over fallen tree-trunks, 
fighting through dense undergrowth, pushing between 
the dry, sharp fir-twigs, manoeuvring round muskegs, 
jumping little streams, hauling logs to cross the larger 
creeks, clambering up cut-banks, detours here and twist- 
ings there, made it the worst experience any of us had 
ever been through. 



2 6o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

After two hours we had to stop for the night ; on the 
edge of a swamp, serenaded by crickets and mosquitoes, 
short of food and thoroughly done up, we turned our toes 
up to the sky for the sixth successive night, and tried to 
sleep. Hopefully we started out next morning, although 
tea and a mouthful or two to eat was all our breakfast, 
but four more solid hours of hard and steady going took 
all the exuberance out of us before the bridge by which 
the Canadian Pacific Railway crosses to the right bank 
of the river appeared in sight, and as, half in exultation, 
half in weariness, the cry, " The Bridge ! " rings out, we 
wonder if the famous " OdXacraal 6d\acrcral" of the 
classic story brought an equal sense of deep relief. 

Eight more miles to tramp, and still no breakfast ! 
But we were now upon the railroad track, a smooth and 
direct route, and spirits rose again. Welcome refresh- 
ment again at Mr. Lindsay's shack sent us on our last 
five miles to Field in first-rate trim, except for sundry 
damages to our sartorial effects, with six days of interest 
and enjoyment to look back upon — in spite of disap- 
pointments and hardships one of the grandest and most 
pleasant trips in any of our memories. 

Foiled once, we were enabled to conquer the Chan- 
cellor before our time expired, though Mt. Goodsir was 
too distant to attempt again. 

A week later, Mr. Scattergood, Hasler and I, with 
Mr. George M. Weed, of Boston, were deposited at Lean- 
choil for another attack. Unfortunately the accident to 
Professor Fay's knee near Lake O'Hara prevented his 
having his revenge upon the mountain. This time we 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 261 

were to try it from the west, and, in order to avoid the 
awful trail experiences (which Mr. Weed, in company 
with Mr. C. S. Thompson, had twice undergone, when at- 
tempting to reach the same peak during the previous 
week), we brought a sackful of spikes, rope, etc., to con- 
struct a raft, on whose frail structure we expected to 
have to intrust ourselves and all our goods. 

None of us had ever made or navigated a raft, but 
that was a mere detail, although I, for one, had serious 
doubts whether we could manufacture one fit to hold to- 
gether in the rapid, turbulent flood of the Kicking Horse, 
or steer it safely once we were embarked. But, happily, 
thanks to Mr. Duchesnay's kind assistance, we were spared 
the necessity of making the dubious experiment ; a boat 
was discovered and a crossing made in two sections with 
a portage in the middle. 

Thence we headed for the mountain-side, traversing 
the swampy flats and the heavy, log-strewn underbrush 
of the Chancellor's lower slopes. Bearing to the right 
of the direct spur, we mounted to nearly 7000 feet, but 
found an utter absence of water in the upper gullies, and 
were obliged to pass still farther round the shoulder and 
descend a few hundred feet before we came upon a suit- 
able location. Our bivouac was made eventually on the 
steep side of a deep gully, with scanty pines scattered 
along its slopes, an enormous vertical wall behind, cleft 
by a narrow chasm, down which a torrent pitched in 
headlong rushes and picturesque cascades. Here we 
were most comfortable, under the benign influence of a 
lustrous full moon and clear-shining stars. 



262 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Determined to have plenty of time at any rate for 
this attempt, before three o'clock on July 30th we were 
stumbling upward over fields of sloping scree, in the 
uncertain, fitful moonlight. Day broke ere long, and, 
as the sun rose, radiant beams lit up successive peaks till 
finally the entire chain of snowy Selkirks was bathed in 
the golden glow. 

Two obvious lines of ascent suggest themselves to 
the mountaineer approaching Mt. Chancellor from this 
direction : one, the more sporting, right up the steep and 
jagged ridge, which, broken by occasional vertical cliffs, 
ascends directly from the west ; the other, a more cer- 
tain route, by the deep snow couloir at the southern base 
of the above-mentioned ridge, leading up to a depression 
just below the towering summit, and thence by the sky- 
line to the top. This couloir we had already traversed 
for most of its length in our previous descent. 

We chose the former, however, as likely to afford the 
more exciting climb, leaving the other for the return, or 
as an alternative in case of need. The lower part was 
simple, although the rocks were absolutely rotten. Then 
a gully had to be climbed and some ledge- work negoti- 
ated up to the base of the first sheer cliff, just beyond 
the junction of the two foundation spurs. This point is 
about 8800 feet in altitude and we arrived at five o'clock. 

Some prospecting was necessary here to turn the 
precipice, and an awkward but apparently feasible way 
was located on the right side. After a slippery traverse, 
the initial piece of straight-up climbing was effected by a 
gymnastic effort up an overhanging mass of rock, with 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 263 

scarcely a crack to get the slightest hold upon. Called 
to the front, by means of extra length of limb and a step 
made by Hasler's axe, I managed to hoist myself up to 
the top of this obstacle and gain, by somewhat easier 
clambering, a narrow rift, from which point of vantage I 
could with the rope facilitate the arrival of the rest. 

Slow, cautious climbing ensued for some little dis- 
tance ; a rock-tower called for a rough scramble, ledges 
and cracks on slippery slabs had to be traversed, but 
finally, from a point unseen by me, Hasler announced 
that we could go no farther by that route, and that we 
must return and try the lower way. This I reluctantly 
assented to, though I am still strongly of opinion that 
the ridge might have been gained by a divergent line ; 
but time was slipping away so swiftly, — two hours had 
already been spent on this short bit, — difficulties as great 
or greater might be met with above, the party was not at 
all quick on rocks, so once again we had to persuade our- 
selves that discretion was the better part, and we slowly 
made our tedious way down the precipitous face, and has- 
tened down easier rocks and couloirs, till we could find a 
means of access by the rocky wall to the snow-gorge below. 
It was ten o'clock by the time the base was reached, at a 
point just about an hour and a quarter's distance from 
the bivouac, six precious hours having been spent in the 
futile though delightful rock scramble and its approaches. 

After a meal, quick progress up the gully followed 
and zigzags up the rocks and snow of the ridge-wall by 
any available ledges and miniature couloirs, till shortly 
after noon we stood on the crest of the arete dividing 



264 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the Kicking Horse and Ice River Valleys, about 10,000 
feet above the sea, and two or three hundred yards 
beyond the point at which we had turned back at our 
previous attempt. 

From the dip we looked up interestedly at the steeps 
of the final struggle. Under good snow conditions this 
would be a quick and easy matter, and the climb will 
probably be done some day in less than four hours from 
the timber limit; but on this occasion the snow lay thin 
over hard and slippery ice, ready to avalanche at any 
moment, and it was useless to think of trying it. So 
nothing but the rocks were left, and they were mainly 
huge slab sections, tilted sharply in the direction of 
ascent, too slippery as a rule to scramble up and, there- 
fore, necessitating frequent turnings first on one side and 
then another, passing along cracks and ledges, one so 
closely overhung by a great rock that a serpentine wrig- 
gle alone could bring us through the gap. Clefts, some- 
times lined with ice and graced with trickling waterfalls, 
had to be ascended vertically; huge buttresses were 
swarmed by dint of close embrace and friction, and quite 
an amusing series of interesting and effective situations 
was afforded by the varied niceties of climbing that were 
brought into the short ascent. 

But it all took time, a great deal too much time, and 
only at three o'clock did we stand at last, at our third 
attempt, upon the summit, 10,780 feet in elevation. The 
peak is a double one, the western portion being crowned 
by a massive cornice. The day was exquisitely clear, 
but with a lovely sky massed with effective clouds. The 



THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 



265 



view was consequently at its best, and it is most mag- 
nificent. 

The noblest features, from which the eye can hardly 
wander, are the gleaming glacial heights of M.t. Vaux 
and the huge triple mass of Mt. Goodsir, one of those 







.. ., . . ,.:Ji 









MT. VAUX 
From the summit of Mt. Chancellor 



mountains which exert a fascination indescribable and 
inexplicable. But when we could look beyond, what a 
sea of alpine crests spread round us, reaching to the 
horizon in a stupendous circle ! The Selkirks, always 
glorious in their whiteness and ethereally bright; the 
mighty monarchs of the north, untrodden, almost unex- 
plored and practically still unknown. And the familiar 
forms of the great peaks of the Continental watershed, 
Stephen and the Cathedral, Hector and Balfour, Habel 



266 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and Collie, Victoria and Lefroy, Hungabee and Delta- 
form, with the grand ice-clad helmet of Mt. Temple 
shining resplendently above the. line of giants, behind 
which its massive form conspicuously towers. 

Our observations and photography occupied us fully; 
but Hasler's urgent calls had to be heeded all too soon 
and at 4.15 we turned to ordinary earth once more. 

Descending to the dip was nearly as slow a process 
as the ascent, and ere we reached the unbroken snows 
at its base, the setting sun had flooded all the pure 
slopes around us with its rich crimson, dying glow, 
which faded to the cold and weirdly bluish hue of snow 
that waits the fall of night. 

Huge strides and numerous glissades were welcome 
after ropes and caution, but darkness gathered rapidly 
as we came down the last loose slopes of debris and 
tumbled into camp at 9 p.m., just eighteen hours after 
leaving it. 

. A_.good night, a quick run down the canyon bed 
next morning, a more tedious tramp to the riverside, a 
tumultuous crossing in our borrowed boat, and we were 
at Leanchoil, from whence on " No. 2 " we later arrived 
at Field, well satisfied that on the third appeal we had 
secured a judgment in our favour from the Chancellor. 

Two years elapsed before Mt. Goodsir had another 
challenge, and a second time his topmost crest remained 
inviolate, a snow-storm driving back Professor Parker 
and his guides from an altitude of about 10,000 feet, 
early in July, 1903. A few days later, a third attempt 
was made, the party being composed of Professor Fay 






THE OTTERTAIL GROUP 267 

and Christian Hasler, representing the first invaders, 
and Professor Parker and Christian Kaufmann, of the 
second contingent. All four had, therefore, some old 
scores to settle with the peak. 

On July 12th they left Leanchoil at 1 p.m., and five 
hours later were in camp in the Ice River Valley, about 
two miles below our former camp, thanks to a bridge 
and road constructed by the Government since our 
experiences by boat and trail in 1901. Next afternoon 
they ascended to a high camp in Zinc Gulch, not far 
from our old bivouac and about the same altitude. 
There they were detained by a snow-storm, and it was 
not until the 16th that they were able to attack the 
mountain. The dawning day was superb, and a start 
was made at 340. The rocks were free from ice, the 
snow in perfect condition, and a steady pace was main- 
tained until eight o'clock, when a halt was made for 
a second breakfast at a height of nearly 10,000 feet 

" From here on," writes Professor Fay, 1 " even to the 
top of the seemingly vertical cliff at whose upper edge 
we had turned back in dismay, our ascent was little 
other than a repetition of that former one [in 1901], 
— save that the snow was in far better condition, remain- 
ing firm and crisp to the very summit. Arrived at 
our previous altitude, we found the situation on the 
summit arete entirely changed, the remarkable ' reversed 
cornice ' having entirely disappeared. . . . The dis- 
tance from the top of the cliff to the summit is perhaps 
five hundred feet, with an ascent of one hundred and 

1 Appalachian Vol. X, p. 288. 



268 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

fifty feet at the most. So near had we once already 
been to victory! But it is indeed a most interesting 
bit. On the left (westward) for much of the distance 
it falls vertically, perhaps even slightly overhanging 
a tremendous descent, so that anything let drop might 
go a thousand feet before striking, and then would 
ricochet three or four thousand more before coming to 
a state of rest ; on the right, a snow slope of at least 
fifty degrees descends for perhaps two thousand feet, 
ending at a precipitous fall of doubtless three or four 
additional thousands. On the knife-edge in which these 
slopes met I saw one of the party astride at a certain 
point with one leg pretty nearly vertical and the other 
at no uncomfortable angle from its mate. 

" At eleven o'clock we stood upon the summit. . . . 
First, a broad expanse of snow slightly tipped westward 
and northward, and perhaps fifteen feet in breadth — but 
of this a full third is cornice, overhanging towards the 
Ottertail Valley ; this small plateau is prolonged in a 
narrower extension a hundred feet or more, ending in 
a gable that we did not think it worth while to look 
over. It is corniced all the way. No later comer will 
find a ' stone-man ' on Goodsir's summit; there are no 
stones, — nothing but pure white snow. For the view, 
one word only must suffice — it is magnificent!" 

The results of boiling-point observation gave an 
estimate for altitude of 11,925 feet. 1 An hour later 
they were en route for camp, reached at six o'clock, 
and Mt. Goodsir had joined the ever growing host of 
peaks included in the roll of " First Ascents." 

1 But see note, p. 78. 



CHAPTER X 

THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 

Ho! for the far North; for the untrodden summits 
of Mt Columbia and its vast ice-field, Mts. Forbes and 
Freshfield, Bryce and Lyell, and other such peaks, 
named or unnamed, as might lure the explorer with 
their subtle fascination, if time and weather be pro- 
pitious. Ho ! for the Great Divide, whose numerous 
eccentric crooks and windings, bastioned with sturdy out- 
post peaks, and riven with passes never visited by man, 
with their attendant spurs and valleys hitherto unknown, 
present so wondrously attractive a problem for the moun- 
taineer to solve. 

It seemed almost too good to be true, but we were 
really off at last ! Despite many a difficulty and many 
a disappointment, my dream was in very deed beginning 
to be realized. Ever since the first fitful glimpses 
of the " beyond " from out the. driving mists upon 
Mt. Stephen's top, I had longed for an opportunity to 
wander in the region of the Giants, where Mt. Forbes and 
Mt. Columbia held sway over a realm scarcely invaded 
by the foot of man. Again the next summer from a 
score of summits the far peaks called and called again, 
till finally upon. Mt. Habel the summons came so 

269 



270 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

imperatively that it would not be denied, and the first 
plans were laid, to bear fruit ten months later. 

The officials of the Canadian Pacific Railway, 
from the highest down, showed the very greatest 
interest and kindness in furthering the project. In 
addition to numberless courtesies, they most gener- 
ously placed at my disposal for the whole season the 
services of the ablest of their contingent of Swiss 
guides, Christian Kaufmann, who had been my com- 
panion on many interesting occasions when he was 
attached to Mr. Whymper's staff. But, unfortunately, 
my two expected comrades were at the last moment 
prevented from accompanying me, and I was left in 
the unpleasant predicament of having a most inadequate 
climbing party, which threatened ruin to the moun- 
taineering portion of the trip; for two on a rope on the 
great ice-fields and unknown, but presumably difficult, 
big peaks to be explored, was anything but an ideal 
arrangement. Since the mountaineering element was 
the most important feature of the whole undertaking, 
as it was imperative to seek the summits to obtain 
most of the required data, it was that or nothing. 
With almost any other guide but Christian I should 
have shrunk from the attempt, but his skill both on 
rocks and ice is so consummate, and his experience 
so considerable, that I was ready, if he were willing 
to trust himself with me alone. This, to my great 
relief, he volunteered to do, and our mutual confidence 
was amply vindicated by the achievement, without 
mishap or accident, of the first ascents of eight 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 271 

peaks over 10,000 feet in altitude (besides two others 
in conjunction with Professor Collie's party), and the 
exploration of several new passes and extensive glaciers 
and snow-fields. 

Of course Bill Peyto was my outfitter, but his grow- 
ing business needed so much of his attention that he 
could not spare the time to spend eight or nine weeks 
away from his headquarters, and he could only accom- 
pany us as far as the Saskatchewan, leaving the camp in 
charge of Jim Simpson and Fred Ballard, both experi- 
enced hunters and trailmen, and both excellent cooks, 
particularly Fred. This latter is by no means the least 
qualification, and the ability of the chef, especially on a 
long" trip, is a most important factor of the comfort, 
health, and " condition " of the explorer. I have seen 
bannocks, tough and solid beyond all idea of eating, 
which have stood the ravages of wind and weather with- 
out a trace of wear, let alone dissolution, for four long 
years ! Verb. sap. sat. est. 

Laggan is the starting-point for the far North, as the 
extraordinary valleys, characteristic of the Canadian 
Rockies, running parallel to the main line of the Divide, 
permit of a route in almost a perfectly straight line 
alongside the watershed and seldom more than half a 
dozen to a dozen miles away. The start had been delayed 
a week by heavy rains which made the swampy valley 
of the Bow well-nigh impassable, but, on July 8th, 1902, 
Christian and I spent our last night for many a week 
surrounded by the comforts of a civilized abode at Lake 
Louise, equipped and eager for our lengthy wanderings. 



272 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Next morning Peyto, Jim and Fred appeared from 
Banff, with fourteen horses, not to mention an irrespon- 
sible and irrepressible two-year-old colt, and a full stock 
of provisions. Almost every previous party that had ex- 
plored the headwaters of the Saskatchewan and beyond 
had suffered regularly from the running short of their 
supplies, necessitating a hurried return and the abandon- 
ment of sundry plans, accompanied by privations more 
or less severe. Such a contingency Peyto and I were 
mutually determined should not occur on this occasion, 
his first as an outfitter for the long trip, and mine as an 
independent traveller. As a result we had an abundance 
throughout our two months' trip and some to spare. 

These stores, together with my impedimenta* and 
Christian's modest kit, loaded our ten pack-horses heav- 
ily, the others being used for saddle purposes. Some 
description of the contents of the packs may be of use 
if not particularly interesting. The provisions, to com- 
mence with the most important items, consisted of a 
mainstay of flour and bacon ; canned goods of various 
descriptions, including milk, corn, tongues, boneless tur- 
key and other birds, beef, and jam ; sugar, salt and other 
seasonings (Fred made the best mustard I have ever 
tasted anywhere); baking-powder, dried fruits, — apples* 
pears, prunes, apricots and raisins ; rice and oatmeal, 
cheese and chocolate, tea, coffee, cocoa, and a varied 
assortment of soups about complete the tale, and we fared 
sumptuously every day. Two small tents accommodated 
the four of us, bestowed in pairs; blankets and sleeping- 
bags, according to individual taste, completed the night 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 273 

equipment ; kitchen and table utensils, strictly limited to 
bare necessities, made up the balance of camp furniture. 
Our personal baggage varied from the little more than 
change of raiment of my three companions to my own 
dittos, stuffed into a common sack, together with my soli- 
tary luxury and sundry instruments required for semi- 
scientific purposes; and four ice-axes formed a most 
harassing climax to the number of the packs. 

The instruments consisted of two cameras, 5x7 and 
3i x 4j, w ^ tn some forty dozen plates and cut films, and 
the etceteras necessary for changing plates and other in- 
cidentals ; a mountain transit, with tripod, most kindly 
supplied by Mr. E. Deville, Surveyor-general of Canada, 
along with a Watkin mountain aneroid and one of ordi- 
nary make : these were supplemented by my own pocket 
instrument, and the three served as valuable checks to 
one another, besides enabling me to leave one down in 
camp to be observed regularly by an assistant whilst the 
other two were being operated at various altitudes ; a 
fairly accurate correction for weather variations was 
thus obtained. A sextant, clinometer and small plane- 
table, fitting on to the tripod of my camera, three 
thermometers and a pair of field-glasses, besides an 
assortment of maps, note-books, accounts of previous 
explorations in the vicinity, and a few minor addenda, 
made up a fairly bulky but very valuable load, which 
caused me many an anxious moment, in spite of strong 
wooden cases, for the contrariety of the cayuse is pro- 
verbial, and amid the close tree-trunks of a dense forest 
or on the occasions of the swims across the broad Sas- 



274 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

katchewan the delicate instruments and cameras were 
fortunate in coming through unscathed. 

I have referred to my one luxury, which brought 
me some chaff and scarcely-veiled contempt at the 
outset from my comrades, but ere long it was con- 
ceded to have some merits, and before the confines of 
civilization were again attained they wanted to know 
where one like it could be got. Each evening on our 
arrival at a new camp, after tents were pitched, boughs 
gathered and spread within and all made snug, I ap- 
peared from the recesses of my tent with a flat pack- 
age, fifteen inches long, eight wide, and one and a half 
thick, and a machine like a small accordion ; unfold- 
ing the former, an air mattress of waterproof cloth 
was displayed, which the " accordion " soon filled to a 
convenient size, and lo, an ample bed, seven feet long 
and two and a half feet wide, with a bulging pillow 
at one end, lay ready for a comfortable night. Old 
bones get painful after eight weeks night by night on 
Mother Earth's hard lap, even with spruce boughs 
plentifully spread ; and many a disturbed night of toss- 
ing in search of softer spots was saved, besides racked 
bones and possibilities of rheumatism obviated by the 
use of my beloved mattress. The memory is fragrant 
yet, — with a fragrance born of india-rubber that was 
its only failing, particularly in its earlier days, — and we 
shall be inseparables on any future camping-trip of any 
length. 

The first night camp was pitched only three or four 
miles from Laggan, Kaufmann and I walking over 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 275 

from- Lake Louise in the evening. Reveille was 
sounded early. Jim and Peyto hunt up the horses and 
bring them in; Fred looks after breakfast; Christian 
and I strike tents, fold blankets, pack the baggage 
and help with the saddling. Then breakfast is in 
order, the dishes are washed, saddles cinched up, packs 
loaded and fastened with the mysterious but invaluable 
" diamond " or " three-quarter-diamond " hitch, the fire is 
carefully extinguished, we mount our steeds, and off we 
go along the trail. 

It is just 7.20, but each day sees the routine of pack- 
ing more nearly perfected and the time occupied in 
getting under way grows less and less. Peyto leads on 
his well-tried black mare, followed by the string of 
pack-horses, which make occasional dashes for the 
leadership, shaking up their packs and bumping into 
one another or any trees that they can hit. The pack- 
ing and the " hitch " are early and most fully tested. 
In the middle of the bunch comes Fred, and Jim brings 
up the rear ; both have considerable " driving " to do, 
as the commencement of a march invariably calls for 
some discipline and training: some of the cayuses 
were new to pack-train work, and all were on their first 
trip of the season and apt to be a little slow and con- 
trary, until they got into good condition and their 
regular routine of place and method was established. 

Kaufmann and I were unattached, and the pursuit 
of photographs took me sometimes ahead or left me 
far in the rear. The latter proceeding did not agree 
with the gregarious tastes of my first steed, which 



276 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

objected strongly to being tied up when the other horses 
disappeared along the trail : on one occasion he broke 
his tie-rope and left me in the lurch, and on another 
he uprooted bodily a sturdy twelve-foot spruce and 
cantered off in glee with the tree swinging at the end of 
the stout cord. So Christian good-naturedly shadowed 
me in future and took charge of the delinquent. 

Fred Stephens, another admirable " outfitter," was 
on his way with fifteen horses and two foals to the 
mouth of Bear Creek, packing in supplies to cache 
in advance of Professor Collie's party, which was to 
follow thither in two or three weeks' time: so the com- 
bined strings formed a striking cavalcade. 

The weather was perfect as we slowly wound our 
way along the old trail, probably largely the same as 
that taken by Dr. Hector in 1858, when the first white 
man sought the sources of the Bow. Behind us rose 
the well-known peaks beyond Laggan, Mts. Victoria,. 
Lef roy and Temple grandly prominent. To the right, 
a fire-swept desolate expanse extends to the south-eastern 
spur of Mt. Hector and gradually leads the eye to the 
sharp, fortress-like apex of that peak, the dominating 
mountain of the Upper Bow. On the left, wooded 
slopes merge in the rugged escarpments of Mt. Daly 
and its neighbours, till, in the distance, the palisades 
are broken by a sudden gorge, where the vast ice-fields 
of the Waputik sweep down to Hector Lake, and on the 
farther side a wooded spur juts far into the valley, culmi- 
nating in Bow Peak and folding the shining waters in 
its close embrace. 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 



277 



The late spring and recent heavy snows, which had 
delayed our start, rendered the trail — troublesome at 
best — well-nigh impassable. The sloughs were full of 
water, the trails thick with soft and sticky mire. The 
poor horses, with their extra-heavy packs, sank deeply in, 
and only with constant effort and many a resounding 
squelch were their captive limbs withdrawn. More than 
one fell and had to be rescued; they would persist in 
wandering from the pathway, in search of better footing, 
and driving meant some exercise for hand and voice. 
Once " Kootenay" stuck fast, his pack between two little 
spruces and his hind-quarters sunk in a deep mud-hole, 
utterly helpless and incapable of movement ; and it took 
the combined efforts of the five of us, after a prolonged 
struggle, by dint of pull and push, easing and straining, 
to hoist the poor beast at last to terra firma. Though 
trembling in every limb and slightly wrenched and 
strained, he fortunately was not seriously the worse of a 
mishap such as has frequently cost a pack-animal its life. 

Thus, leaping fallen logs, crossing wayside creeks, 
ploughing through swamps, the march proceeds beside 
the rushing waters of Bow River, till shortly after noon we 
find a pleasant camping-ground close to the eddying cur- 
rent and about a mile from the lower end of Hector Lake. 
An ample supper of splendid rainbow-trout witnessed 
to a part of the afternoon's occupation, and a stroll to the 
borders of the lake gave me an opportunity of learning 
a little more of the topography. The ground was more 
or less familiar, as I had already had a journey along the 
tangled shore after crossing Balfour Pass nearly a year 



278 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

before. This is the first respectable adit to the Waputik 
ice-field and its peaks from the Bow Valley, and it is 
by this approach that the earliest explorations have been 
made. 

On the other side of the valley towers Mt. Hector, a 
lofty peak, 1 1,205 feet, but with a very easy way of access 
to its final turret from the northern end ; its aspect from 
the south and west, however, is imposing and precipitous. 
It was first assailed in 1895 by the late Mr. Philip Abbot, 
Professor Fay and Mr. C. S. Thompson, and though there 
is nothing of thrilling alpine adventure in the narrative 
contributed to Appalachia by Mr. Abbot, the humorous 
and racy style of his account makes it one of the most 
delightful articles in that delightful periodical. 1 

He sums up the features of the expedition in his 
opening paragraph : " Our party that climbed Mt. Hec- 
tor cannot, I am afraid, lay claim to much glory there- 
from. We had no hair-breadth escapes; we did not 
even encounter great hardships, except such as are 
familiar to every bricklayer's apprentice. We did not 
need to exercise great generalship : the mountain was 
in plain sight, we walked to its base, — some distance, 
I admit, and not exactly over a paved road, — and then 
walked on till we reached the summit." 

But the view from the lofty and isolated peak was 
of unusual grandeur. " In the single element of savage 
desolation — unrelieved, monotonous, boundless, and com- 
plete — I have never seen anything which equalled the 
view from the summit of Mt. Hector, and I do not ex- 

1 Appalachia, Vol. VIII, p. I. 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 279 

pect to see anything which will excel it. But impres- 
siveness and picturesqueness of detail, beauty of color, 
and, of course, human interest — except the imaginative 
interest which came from the mere immensity of the 
solitude — were, on the whole, lacking. 

" These are large deductions ; but on the other side 
there are to be said two things. So far as the Club is 
concerned, Mt. Hector is the first alpine peak (and it 
can fairly be called alpine) which has been conquered 
for the first time by an Appalachian party, as such, 
climbing without guides. We do not claim to have 
achieved greatness, but we do expect to have greatness 
thrust upon us, as being the first parents of a very long 
and illustrious line to come. Secondly, the expedition 
was an interesting one to ourselves, because it was so 
fair and even a tussle with Nature — and with Nature in 
no accommodating mood. We did our own work, and 
fairly earned for ourselves what measure of success we 
had. There is a fascination in this which outweighs all 
aesthetic considerations whatever." 

The details of the climb need not be given. The 
route adopted led at first through pleasant woods to the 
base of a conspicuous buttress or shoulder separated by 
a great amphitheatre from the abortive south-western 
arete running down from the summit. Climbing was 
easy. The cliffs were so broken down that they scarcely 
needed the help of their hands. Then steep shale gave 
place to snow patches for a while, then more of the in- 
terminable shale, until from shadow and steep stony 
slopes a single step lifted them above the edge of a 



2 8o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

plateau and into a new world. " In front, almost blind- 
ing from the reflected rays of the morning sun, there 
stretched a broad and almost level expanse of dazzling 
white; sinking very gradually to the north-east, rising 
as gradually to the south-east, and towards the south 
first rising slowly, and then suddenly lifting itself up 
in a splendid snow-peak, nobly proportioned and very 
steep." 

Up these snows they went, without special happen- 
ings of any kind, till a final scramble up a hundred feet 
of rocks brought them to the apex — a little ridge of 
broken rocks — at half -past twelve, and the vast pano- 
rama lay before their fascinated gaze. 

Beyond Mt. Hector lies a trench-like valley by which 
a way can be made to Pipestone Pass, and farther still 
another tributary comes in from the Dolomite Pass, lead- 
ing directly to the Siffleur River, an affluent of the North 
Saskatchewan. The first known to make this little pass 
were the Revs. H. P. Nichols and C. L. Noyes and 
Messrs. C. S. Thompson and G. M. Weed, all of the 
Appalachian Mountain Club. In 1898 they journeyed 
up the Pipestone River from Laggan to the Pipestone 
Pass ; crossing the height of land, they travelled down 
the Siffleur River to its junction with a large stream from 
the south-west, which at first they thought might be the 
North Saskatchewan. So they crossed the Siffleur and 
proceeded up the new river, soon being quite undeceived 
as to its identity, but somewhat perplexed as to where it 
was to lead them. Eventually they emerged into the 
old Bow Valley after a most interesting trip. The char- 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 281 

acter of the mountains along this newly-traversed coun- 
try being strikingly dolomitic, the pass and river 
received their present names. No real climbing, how- 
ever, was undertaken, though one or two lesser emi- 
nences were ascended. Mt. Molar, a peak of most 
singular appearance and admirably named, is the most 
prominent altitude. The mountains of the Slate Range, 
lying to the east of the Bow Valley, with Mt. Hector and 
Mt. Molar as the chief summits, are far less alpine in 
character than those of the western side, and form an 
intermediate step between the latter and the ranges be- 
yond, which are wholly devoid of glaciers. The ice-fields 
of the Waputik and Wapta, on the other hand, are most 
extensive, stretching in a magnificent curve from Mt. 
Daly, just north of Hector Pass, where the railroad 
crosses the Divide, encircling Mt. Olive and Mt. Gordon, 
sweeping round the bases of Mt. Collie and Mt. Habel, 
and terminating at the upper end of Yoho Valley, a 
distance of twenty-five to thirty miles. 

A series of massive retaining walls girdles its outer 
edge, broken through here and there, where huge glacier- 
tongues project between mighty portals into the vales 
beyond. As already indicated, this wall remains intact 
far up the Bow Valley, on the east, the first break of 
importance being where Balfour Glacier leads to Hector 
Lake, and by this gateway Mt. Balfour and the ice-fields 
were earliest approached. A few miles farther north 
comes the Bow Glacier, draining to Bow Lake, and this 
presents another noble entrance to the vast ice-world. 
Both of these, with Peyto Glacier, at the head of the 



282 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

South Fork of the Saskatchewan, have been ascended to 
the Divide at least, and my expeditions to that point 
from the Yoho Valley side prove the feasibility of alpine 
passes being made across the watershed. As one swings 
round one faces less frequented regions ; a glacier de- 
bouches between Mt. Baker and Mt. Collie, and another 
through the deep chasm separating the latter from Mt. 
Habel, but no one has yet been known to pass between 
these portals. From Mt. Habel the retaining wall con- 
tinues unbroken to Signal 1 8 and the ridge beyond. 

Upon the inner side, a minor tongue or two depend 
from the rocky sides of Mt. Balfour to the verge of the 
stupendous cliffs that line the eastern side of Yoho 
Valley, from one of them springing the Takakkaw FalL 
But the two chief glaciers are the three-tongued Habel 
Glacier and the grand Yoho Glacier (which receives an 
affluent from Balfour Pass), both descending to the 
famous Yoho Valley. 

The central peaks have all been climbed as well as 
most of those upon the rim. Signal 18 (10,000 feet), to 
the west, was early taken as a survey point. Mt. Gordon 
(10,400 feet) fell on August 10th, 1897, before a party 
of nine, who climbed it by way of the Bow Glacier under 
the impression that it was Mt. Balfour. In 1898 Messrs. 
Collie, Stutfleld and Woolley, on their return from 
an exploration trip to the head-waters of the Athabaska, 
ascended Thompson Peak (10,500 feet); and in 1901 
Mt. Habel and Mt. Collie were climbed by Mr. Whym- 
per and myself with three guides. 

The highest mountain of the range is Mt. Balfour 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 283 

(10,875 feet), which was sought by the big party that 
ascended Mt. Gordon in 1897; and a second attempt, 
made by a section of them a few days later from Hector 
Lake, failed on account of bad weather. The following 
summer Professor Fay tried it from Sherbrook Valley, a 
tributary of the Kicking Horse, and had a lengthy tramp 
across soft snow, which proved the undoing of Mr. R. F. 
Curtis, whose weight forced him to stop midway. Pro- 
fessor Fay and R. Campbell went some distance farther, 
when they too had to relinquish the attempt. This was 
on August 3d, and on the nth the summit was achieved 
by the Rev. C. L. Noyes and Messrs. Thompson and 
Weed. They were encamped at Hector Lake, familiar 
ground to all, especially to the two first, who had been 
members of the party that started from this spot with the 
same object just twelve months before. 

" By rising at three," writes Mr. Noyes, 1 " we had 
time to prepare and eat a comfortable hot breakfast, 
oatmeal and chocolate, and get off by four. A diag- 
onal course, slabbing up over the ridge intervening 
between this point and the outlet of Margaret, brought 
us to that lake by the easiest route. The sun had 
not yet touched its waters into beauty, and they lay 
a cold, sombre blue. It may have been six o'clock 
when we were climbing the screes at the head of the 
lake, and after seven when, by the one rock-ladder, we 
scaled the wall above, and came over the outer rim 
of Lake Turquoise, — 'a joy forever.' It was not far 
from eight when we stopped for lunch at the foot of 

1 Appalachian o\. IX, p. 28. 



284 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the glacier above. . . . The passage of the glacier 
was this year a delicate operation, taking some ingen- 
ious warping among crevasses, and light stepping over 
bridges, which needed but to melt a little more to 
almost cut off access to the neve above. This gained, 
full in view beyond it, broadside to us, rose the mag- 
nificent mass of Balfour. The difficulties of approach, 
which we had foreseen looking down from Vulture Col, 
by no means vanished. The final ridge, however, looked 
hopeful, promising us, if once on it, a clear way to the 
summit; but how to reach the ridge? Well to the 
south was the most encouraging route in view. Rising 
almost to the crest was a tongue of snow, but it was 
suspiciously gashed, and, once upon the ridge, there 
was no surety that the way would not be barred by 
cornices or precipitous breaks. The prospect was 
too doubtful to waste time in considering, and with- 
out slackening our steps we pressed on over the neve 
to the gateway at the south, which would let us 
through to the western side, where we had reason to 
hope we might find more level and stable snow, giv- 
ing access to the final ridge. It was eleven o'clock 
when we broke over the Divide, and the change of 
worlds of vision, always thrilling in such a crossing, 
was grandly so in this case. To the south rose, near 
and imposing, Niles and Daly, like mammoth walruses, 
lifting their black heads above the ice, and thrusting 
their great snouts toward us ; between them the neve 
sloped down to some glacier, and by them to the west 
rolled a vast snow-field toward the ravine of the Wapta, 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 285 

that enormous rent between the mountains, gathering 
into its bosom the immense volume of melted snow 
poured down from all the neves streaming off the 
western side of Balfour and Gordon, Collie and Habel, 
to the north ; and over beyond, from the hither slopes 
of another system of mountains that filled the prospect 
to the horizon west and south. For all this we hardly 
had eyes at first ; they were turned instantly tow r ard 
our goal ; and when they ran over a clear reach of 
snow leading to a ridge curving off from the main 
arete to the left, above which foreshortened could be 
seen the summit, as it seemed readily attainable, only 
the nonchalance of our tones betrayed our excitement 
as we remarked, ' We're going to make it.' We did 
make it, but it took four hours. The offshoot ridge 
once gained, there was along its curve an even, almost 
level, way to the backbone of the mountain. On this 
main arete there was more difficulty ; a V-shaped cleft, 
promised to block the passage altogether, but we cir- 
cumvented it by slabbing down to the screes and snow 
below, and diagonally up again, over unstable and 
tricky footing, and with unreliable hand-holds on fri- 
able rock, all done without slip or danger, up to a 
depression in the ridge, where greeted us a reviving 
view Hector-ward, and a pool of water made by the 
snow-shelf on the eastern side, melting against the 
warm rocks. This invited to a final lunch, refreshed 
by which we rose for our last hour's climb to a height 
much greater than Balfour, — the summit of our sum- 
mer's adventure and success. 



286 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

"Any one who has walked the ridge of the Presi- 
dential Range will know the thrilling sensation of such 
a passage, as though one were moving on the backbone 
of the world. Suppose it is really a bit of the coping 
of the continent, lifted toward eleven thousand feet, 
thinned down till it is no more than the fine edge of 
a wedge protruding through slopes of snow that cling 
to its sides high as the steepness will allow, flanked 
beyond stupendous gorges on either hand by a wilder- 
ness of mountains reaching everywhere to the sky- 
line, rising in great steps along an untrodden way to 
an untouched peak, — that is what the final climb in 
the capture of Balfour meant for us. It tried tact, 
agility, and care, but was not difficult or dangerous. 
By the time we had built our cairn and taken bearings 
with the prismatic compass, it was four o'clock." 

The ultimate issue was a bivouac at tree-line and 
a night out, and back to Laggan by seven o'clock 
next evening. 

But to return to our camp. The site here is a 
well-known one, as the trail is fairly often travelled as 
far as the mouth of the Mistaya River and, less fre- 
quently, onward to the haunts of the wild sheep and 
goats near Wilcox Pass. At other times the march 
goes on until a suitable location turns up, the ordinary 
working day for a pack-train being about six hours. 
By starting early, camp is generally reached by noon, 
and a busy scene develops. 

Each rider first unsaddles his own steed and turns 
him loose, if his character will permit. My old " Nig- 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 287 

ger," unsurpassed as a trail-horse, clever in fallen 
timber, excellent at fording streams, sure-footed on 
grassy slopes or rough, stony ground, dependable at 
all times when one is on his back, was utterly depraved 
when he was cast loose and would lead the other horses 
into mischief if any were practicable. So he, with Joby, 
Kootenay and Baldy, were usually hobbled, and on 
one or two sad occasions he even had to suffer the 
crowning indignity of picketing, thereby also having 
his evening meal considerably curtailed in quality and 
quantity. 

Then all hands set to work to unload the pack- 
horses, strip them and " shoo " them off for a roll and 
a good eighteen hours' browse. The cook-boxes are 
dumped in the " kitchen " ; Fred gets his fire lit and 
hustles round for dinner; Christian cuts armfuls of 
spruce boughs, which we dispose expertly as a com- 
bination bed and carpet in the tents which we have 
just set up. The personal kit and blankets follow, and 
the balance of the packs are piled with the saddles close 
at hand and covered carefully with waterproof pack- 
mantles. By this time Fred announces dinner, and 
we set to with ample appetites. 

The afternoon is variously spent. Sometimes with 
Christian, often alone, I range round with camera, field- 
glass, aneroid and sextant, making notes and observa- 
tions, taking pictures, studying the routes for future 
expeditions, and so forth. Jim and Fred generally dis- 
port themselves in leisurely fashion, unless, in a new 
region, a trail has to be cut for the next day's jour- 



288 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

ney, or some other need arises, and then they work 
like heroes. Two or three log cabins for winter use 
when trapping stand as memorials of afternoons off and 
days when Christian and I were on the heights. 

Early to bed, we ordinarily sleep like tops till break 
of day calls us for a fresh start, and so da capo while 
the march continues. The nights are usually cool, the 
freezing-point being recorded on eleven nights out of 
fifty-one in July and August, and forty-six was the high- 
est minimum reading during that period. The coldest 
camps were those close to the streams, which are all 
of glacial origin, and a current of cold air accompanies 
them as they surge onward from their icy fountains. 
During our fifty-four days we pitched camp thirty-four 
times, eight of which were return visits to old localities. 
Our lowest camp was at the mouth of Bear Creek, 
4500 feet above the sea, our highest at the upper end 
of the West Branch Valley, about 6000 feet ; and, strange 
to say, this was the warmest of them all, thanks to its 
singularly sheltered position. On several occasions 
bivouacs were made at timber-line (t.e. about 7000 feet), 
and, as a rule, we were much warmer there than down 
in camp, being removed from the influence of the glacier 
streams. 

Few regions could surpass the Canadian Rockies 
for the advantages of their camping-grounds. Apart 
from the unvarying beauty of each spot, the three 
desiderata of an ideal camp are almost always abun- 
dantly in evidence. Fuel and water never fail, wherever 
you may wander, and pasture is very rarely lacking, 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 289 

though, fortunately, the Indian cayuse is not remarkably 
particular about his daily menu. Sometimes the day's 
journey may have to be extended or curtailed beyond 
the regulation distance, and at the Columbia camp the 
horses had to be taken three or four miles down 
the valley after the first day or two, but the rarity of 
these occasions brings them into prominence. The 
addition of invariably excellent shelter under the lee 
of the lofty, close-set pines and balsams completes the 
tale of camping advantages and leaves nothing that 
the most exacting traveller could well demand. 

Yet each spot has its own individuality, its special 
charm of scenery and location. One has a lake out- 
spread in front, another is a garden of roses and asters, 
a third looks out upon a private waterfall, a fourth, 
from a proud eminence, dominates the whole sur- 
rounding landscape ; each and all are of the universal 
genus "ideal." 

Evening round the camp-fire is a pleasant time. 
The temperature is usually cool enough to make the 
blaze acceptable to more than the eye. Great logs 
are piled high, and there is cheerfulness and life. We 
sit round, each in his favourite attitude, narrate the in- 
dividual experiences of the day, discuss our future plans, 
or, more commonly, " swap yarns." The varied lives of 
the five give scope for interesting episodes. The life 
of the cowboy, hunter, trapper, lumberman and pioneer 
of North America rubs shoulders with the experi- 
ences of the mountaineer and chamois-hunter of the 
Swiss guide, the traveller in almost all the European 



2 9 o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

countries and one or two beyond, and the Canadian 
rough-rider who has smelt powder on the veldt of the 
Transvaal. 

Leaving Hector Lake behind us early in the morn- 
ing, we traverse green timber for a while, the trees 
becoming smaller and more sparse as the valley rises. 
The outlets from the eastern valleys have to be forded, 
and we round Bow Peak, a massive promontory, 
jutting out north of Hector Lake, forming a conspic- 
uous landmark all the length of the Bow Valley from 
Laggan to Bow Pass, and said to be visible as far 
as Wilcox Pass. An easy little pass for pedestrians 
lies behind, leading from the upper valley directly to 
the head of Hector Lake. Beyond its long rampart, 
where the valley narrows to nearly half its former 
width, a strikingly fine series of hanging-glaciers ap- 
pears on the dark, lofty cliffs that bound the Waputik 
snow-fields, and a tremendous cornice is conspicuous 
upon the summit of their southern outpost. At their 
base the glacier-green waters of Bow Lake gleam 
brilliantly below the moraine and stretch away to the 
north for about two miles, then, curving round the 
buttresses that push their way far into the angle, they 
sweep towards their source at the. end of the Bow 
Glacier. A mighty obelisk, fallen from the heights, 
stands far out amidst the trees close to the southern 
shore — a fit monument to mark the memory of a 
by-gone race. 

The trail being spongy and full of muskeg we 
travelled in the water on the firm gravel of the lake- 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 291 

bottom for a full mile to its north-east corner, then, 
turning westward along the shore, we crossed the creek 
to higher ground, where a large clump of timber makes 
an admirable camping-place. Joby, always trouble- 
some and obstinate, took it into his head to ford the 
creek at a point of his own selection, and, in attempt- 
ing to climb the opposite bank at a bad place, lost his 
equilibrium and lay wallowing helplessly in the water, 
soaking both his pack and Peyto, who plunged to his 
rescue in a twinkling. 

I spent the afternoon visiting a splendid gorge at 
the lake head, through which the outflow from the 
glacier descends with concentrated energy in a tortu- 
ous and turbulent torrent, pent up by the worn walls 
of the rocky chasm, so narrow that in places one could 
step across. At one point the deep ravine is crossed 
by a massive fallen boulder, thirty feet or so in length, 
which forms a natural bridge high above the rushing 
stream. The sides of the canyon are fantastically 
worn ; twists and hollows mark its entire length,, and 
numerous cascades and deep black pools alternate 
with foaming rapids, till the strait portals of the chasm 
are left behind, and the creek winds peacefully along 
a meandering course between queer promontories that 
alternate on either side of the valley for a considerable 
distance before the stony flats and finally the lake 
are reached. The glacier above is very broken, but 
easily ascended at the side, and has been used many 
times as a highway to the Wapta neve. 

This is the main head-water of the Bow River 



292 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

(itself the principal source of the South Saskatchewan), 
though perhaps the longest branch is that which 
filters through the swampy tract from the Bow Pass, 
three miles beyond the lake. 

Upon that pass the minor watershed is crossed that 
separates the basins of the North and South Saskatche- 



Mt. Hector 


Bow Peak 






i 




%. 


'I .;.'. 


>s# ,ffffe; 


J 






i 


iJk: 




HS^Hv&£i'^§l§i 




1- .- v: ^8 






W^^jm 









BOW LAKE 



wan, which thus have sources within a few feet of one 
another, if they do not indeed spring from the same 
morass, and, after a wide divergence that bears their 
waters fully a hundred and fifty miles apart, their 
courses meet again some three hundred and fifty miles 
from this spot where the infant streams mingle upon 
the broad bosom of Bow Pass. 



THE VALLEY OF THE UPPER BOW 293 

The view from the tent-door is exquisite : the broad 
lake sweeping round the rugged mass of mountains 
opposite, flanked by the wide, white expanse of ice- 
field and glacier to the west, and the green vista of 
Bow Valley on the other side. 

" 'Tis night upon the lake. Our bed of boughs 
Is built where — high above — the pine tree soughs. 
'Tis still — and yet what woody noises loom 
Against the background of the silent gloom ! 
One well might hear the opening of a flower 
If day were hushed as this." 



CHAPTER XI 

THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 

Above Bow Lake the valley is fairly broad and open, 
rising gently over marshy ground to the wood-crowned 
summit of Bow Pass, about 6700 feet above sea-level, 
and, soon after six, Kaufmann and I were off, ahead of 
the outfit, armed with the larger camera, to endeavour to 
do something like justice to the entrancing view that 
opens out upon the northern side. In an hour and 
a half we reached the "height of land," and as the 
trees on the actual pass prevent one getting any view 
at all, we climbed the shoulder of the western hill, and; 
swinging round its grassy slope, we came abruptly to a 
magnificent view-point on a jutting spur of rock, and the 
long vista of the South and North Forks of the North 
Saskatchewan suddenly opened out before us. 

An almost vertical drop of more than a thousand 
feet descends to the 

" Silent sea of pines," 

which laves the bases of the precipitous cliffs on either 
side, throwing its tide of trees far up their lower slopes. 
Hemmed in by rugged ranges, whose broken summits 
pierce the sky, the view is limited to the single trench- 
like gorge that stretches away for fifty miles in a straight 
line to Wilcox Pass. Round to our left the strikingly 

294 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 295 

pure Peyto Glacier descends in a fine ice-fall between 
grand cliffs from the north-east extremity of the Wapta 
neve, and forms by far the noblest and most attractive 
entry to those snow-fields from the eastern side. 1 The 
stream, source of the South Fork, or Mistaya River, 
commonly known as Bear Creek, passing through Peyto 
Lake, a superb turquoise gem, and half a dozen other 
lakes (I counted nine in the valley altogether), is lost 
to view amidst the dark forests that are so marked a 
characteristic of the lower Bear Creek Valley. 

The rival ranges that compress the narrow V-shaped 
valley are extremely picturesque. The western is the 
continuation of the Waputik Range, whose most con- 
spicuous points are gabled Howse Peak, loftiest of them 
all, and the two Pyramids, the white and black. The 
latter, a remarkable and stupendous feature from end to 
end of the Mistaya Valley, is particularly impressive 
from every aspect: — 

" To the east 
Sheer to the vale go down the bare old cliffs, 
Huge pillars that in middle heaven uprear 
Their weather-beaten capitals." 

Opposite, the mountains culminate at their northern end 
in Mt. Murchison. This peak, estimated at first by Dr. 
Hector as 13,500 feet in altitude, and by another enthu- 
siast as 15,781, has been, like almost all the mountains 
of this northern region, extremely disappointing in its 

1 The only record of its being ascended is that of Messrs. Nichols, Noyes 
and Thompson, in August, 1898, when they went as far as Vulture Col, and, 
being unable to see a prospect of descending thence to Hector Lake, made 
their exit by the Bow Glacier. 



296 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

actual elevation, as it only reaches 11,300 feet, and so 
far from being proudly preeminent, has been with dif- 
ficulty identified, so many of the near-by peaks appear- 
ing, from a distance, just about level with it. 1 




PYRAMID PEAK 



The pass and all the slopes around amazed me by 
the marvellous profusion and variety of flowers, which 

1 It may be observed that Dr. Hector in a subsequent note expresses a 
doubt as to the accuracy of his former estimate of its altitude. From a close 
study of Dr. Hector's narrative and his outline drawing of the peak, the doubt 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 297 

were most luxuriant although almost at timber-line. 
Painter's-brush, of course, was there in plenty, and the 
beautiful yellow columbine, locally called the mountain 
lily, also red and white varieties of heather, dryas, anem- 
ones, etc. A beautiful wide-open little star, with pure 
white, wax-like petals, was particularly noticeable, also 
a delicate, white drooping bell, small and exquisitely 
veined, which I have not observed in any other spot 
during my wanderings. 

The trail leads sharply downward on the northern 
side, rough and stony in places, with rocky steps and 
ledges and fallen trunks that tested the sure-footedness 
of our cayuses. Soon we found ourselves at the bottom 
of the steep descent. Fire, alas, has swept some por- 
tions of the upper valley, and the weird relics of tall, 
blackened poles and the accompaniment of tangled 
stems that lie in thick confusion amidst the rocky out- 
crops, sparse grass and bushes, and luxuriant fireweed, 
made the scene rather desolate and, with sundry mud- 
holes and steep side-hills, added to the labours of our 
patient horses. Ere long the little cascading creek from 
the lofty pass falls into the larger stream that has its 
origin in Peyto Glacier and Lake, a swirling torrent of 
considerable volume. This is popularly called Bear 
Creek, officially Mistaya River, and geographically 
forms the South Fork of the North Saskatchewan, 
the Middle and North Forks of which possess no spe- 

has been very strongly borne in upon my mind as to whether he did not make 
some error of identification on one of his trips, and get his contour and esti- 
mated elevation from an observation of Mt. Forbes. 



298 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

cial name. By way of variety to the ordinary features 
of the trail, a creek from the eastern mountains, run- 
ning for some miles almost parallel to the main river, 
required fording no less than five times, and we pitched 
our tents about half a mile above the junction, on a 
broad flat hemmed in by trees and bushes and afford- 
ing excellent pasture for our thirty head of horses. 

Crossing .the creek on an improvised bridge formed 
by a felled tree, a few minutes through the w r oods brought 
me to a picturesque, but nameless, lake, fringed with 
trees which rise in thickly wooded slopes to splendid 
cliffs and crags above. This I explored in part. The 
lake is about four miles long, heading close to a tongue 
of glacier that descends a lateral valley from a pure snow- 
peak to the south-west. A mile or so from the upper 
end Bear Creek flows in, issuing through a swampy 
tract at the northern extremity as a good-sized river. 

July 13th gave us a long and rather tedious march 
of more than seven hours. The early scenery was 
magnificent : the valley fairly open and the trail skirt- 
ing the shores of the pretty Waterfowl Lakes or follow- 
ing the windings of the creek. In the bottom the 
timber is just sufficient to give a park-like appearance 
whilst not interfering with the view. Right ahead, in 
the cleft of the narrow valley, Mt. Wilson fills in the 
vista grandly with its massive battlements : on either side 
forested slopes lead upward to the giant crags, frowning 
and sombre, with here and there a gleam of glacier or 
snow-capped peak beyond. The western mountains dom- 
inate the scene, closer and more precipitous than on the 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 299 

other side ; the most splendid feature being the majestic 
steeps of Pyramid Peak, which brought Mt. Stephen con- 
stantly to mind, as it projected virtually sheer above the 
river ; the whole was topped by an Italian sky, lit up by 
exquisite masses of cumulus clouds, a familiar condition 
in the Canadian Rockies which enhances their always 
lovely views. Occasional tenuous waterfalls drop from 
the rims of the upper cliffs, one especially, not very lofty 
but of considerable volume, commanding admiration as 
it leaped from its glacial source, high up upon our right, 
in the centre of a noble amphitheatre of rocks, flanked 
by dark precipices. 

Then we enter the forest and remain in its cool and 
pleasant depths for five and a half hours of travel. As 
we descend, the timber increases in size and density till 
it reminds one of the 

" forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, 
Bearded with moss and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, 
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, 
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms." 

The stillness is remarkable, — a constant wonder of the 
Rockies is the scarcity of sound and life, — especially 
when one lingers behind the cavalcade and wanders 
alone amid these solemn aisles, the most inspiring and 
the fittest place of worship possible. For 

"The groves were God's first temples. Ere men learned 
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave, 
And spread the roof above them — - ere he framed 
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
The sound of anthems, in the darkling wood, 



3oo IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down 
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
And supplication." 

Nowhere perhaps could the sense of intimate com- 
munion with the everlasting Father be more exquisitely 
realized than among such lonely woods or on such soli- 
tary mountain-tops as those of Canada. There may be 
found the long-sought sanctuary of the storm-tossed soul. 
The half-rebellious murmurings and questionings as to 
the justice and the love of God no longer dare to raise 
their voice. Burdens that seemed too heavy to be borne 
are rolled away. The throb of pain is stilled. The past 
and present merge in the vastness of eternal love. The 
world is lost in fellowship with God, its troubles matter 
not when once the heart is knit with His. 

Anon the pack-train is rejoined, halted perhaps 
whilst one or more of our men clear fallen timber from 
the path, or cut their way through the thick under- 
growth when the trail is blocked beyond remedy. 
These halts were not infrequent in spite of the fact 
that Jim and Fred had, earlier in the season, cut through 
more than three hundred trees to clear the route after 
the winter's ravages. Only the ring of the axe is heard, 
and the crash of the falling tree far ahead on the wind- 
ing track. The beasts of burden rest in satisfaction, 
trying meanwhile to snatch a hasty lunch from the near 
bushes or the forest grass. Then on again, over many 
a smaller log, meandering hither and thither through 
the jungly brush, crushing between trees where the 
long-suffering packs are in great danger of immediate 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 301 

disruption ; every now and then a wayward horse will 
make a dash through the timber at the side in a wild 
endeavour to gain pride of place in the long line, 
and either be hung up between two close-set trunks 
or have to be hunted back by one of the vigilant 
packers. 

Sunny peeps open up here and there as we cross a 
lateral gorge, only to be lost again in a moment when 
the forest tunnel is reentered. These gave glimpses of 
the " Promised Land," the group of peaks west of the 
North Fork, where we hoped soon to be exploring the 
topmost heights and making the acquaintance of all 
the chief features of their deep-set environment. The 
most noticeable point at first sight was the remarkable 
change in the stratification : the tilted, often almost 
vertical, formation found to the south of the Saskatche- 
wan gives place to a massive series of perfectly horizontal 
layers, topped by thick, flat glaciers. 

For some time we had wandered far from the creek, 
climbing well up on the eastern slopes, but as we neared 
the valley-mouth, the trail suddenly emerged from the 
woods on the summit of a lofty bank, at whose base 
the brawling river raged along, and there before us, 
beyond the dark shoulder of Mt. Sarbach, appeared the 
cone of Mt. Forbes, attended by its miniature. This 
latter peak, on a spur of the big mountain jutting east- 
ward, is absurdly like its big brother and is so placed 
that, although in reality about 2000 feet less in altitude, 
from all the lower elevations to the east it dwarfs or 
hides the major point. Yet, even when dwarfed by 



3 o2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

distance, Mt. Forbes has a "personality" that thrills 
the inmost being of the mountaineer, particularly when, 
still unconquered, it rose before an enthusiast, one of 
whose chief objectives in a long expedition far from 
the haunts of men was to attempt the ascent of its 
untrodden heights. 

The gateway of the South Fork lies between Mt. 
Sarbach and Mt. Murchison. The former (10,700 feet) 
was ascended on August 25th, 1897, by Mr. G. P. Baker, 
Professor Collie and the Swiss guide, Peter Sarbach, 
whose name was given to the peak. The climb was 
principally marked by the looseness of the crumbling 
rock, until the summit ridge was reached, this being of 
a dark and harder limestone and very narrow and pre- 
cipitous on both sides. 

Mt. Murchison is a much finer mountain, about 
11,300 feet high, and probably the loftiest peak east of 
the ranges of the Divide. The first attempt to reach its 
summit was made in 1898, when Professor Collie's party, 
on their return from the head-waters of the Athabaska 
River, climbed to an altitude of about 9000 feet. It 
snowed steadily and the mountains were enveloped in 
mist, so they abandoned the climb at that point. The 
day was not, however, without its interesting and valu- 
able features. Professor Collie tells us 1 that on the arete 
two remarkable phenomena attracted their attention. 
" The first was a tall column of rock that had become 
detached from the cliff, forming a slender pillar four or 
five hundred feet in height, and tapering towards the 

1 " Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 138. 









THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 303 

summit and base. Much more extraordinary, however, 
was a group of rocks, consisting, as it seemed, of petri- 
fied stems of pine-trees that had been broken off about 
a foot from the ground, with numerous fossilised re- 
mains around their base. It has been suggested, how- 
ever, that they are not trees at all, but the remains of 
some gigantic prehistoric sea-weed. In any case, what- 
ever they are, their existence at so great a height above 
sea-level, and in so excellent a state of preservation, must 
be accounted very remarkable ; and we could wish that 
they might be visited and examined by some geologist 
competent to give a thorough account of them." 

Two of the same party, Professor Collie and Mr. H. 
E. M. Stutfield, with Mr. G. M. Weed and Hans Kauf- 
mann, in July, 1902, reached the highest peak. A rest 
at the mouth of Bear Creek was necessary for the horses, 
so, 1 "by way of spending the time we arranged to at- 
tempt the ascent of the rocky pinnacle of Mt. Murchison 
which faces and, as it were, overhangs the valley where 
the tents were pitched. It was thought that the highest 
summit, or what we had always deemed to be such, lay 
too far to the east for us to climb it, at any rate in one 
day, from our present camping-ground. . . . 

" Leaving the trail about half-an-hour from the camp, 
we ascended the dry bed of a torrent that comes straight 
down the mountain side, some distance northwards of the 
route we followed in 1898 up to the arete where the fossil 
forest was found. In this way we avoided the long grind 
through the woods, which, after our experiences in the 

1 "Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 251. 



3 o4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Bush Valley, we regarded with special aversion. The go- 
ing proved excellent, and we soon found ourselves at tim- 
ber-line, ready to tackle Mt. Murchison with legs untired 
by log-jumping or fighting our way through brushwood. 
As we were all more or less out of training this was a 
matter of no slight importance. Straight above us was 
a series of shale slopes leading up to a narrow snow cou- 
loir, which, though very steep and possibly somewhat 
risky owing to falling stones, looked quite feasible ; and, 
as it obviously offered much the most direct way up the 
mountain, we determined to try it. . . . There was a good 
deal of ice at the bottom of the couloir, which in dry sea- 
sons is almost bare of snow, and to avoid the risk of fall- 
ing stones we took to the rocks on our right. These 
were distinctly difficult in one or two places, and we soon 
had to put on the rope. Above the rocks we got on to 
the snow which, though at a very steep angle, was in 
excellent condition. . . . 

" From the top of a rocky promontory, where we 
halted for our second meal, it was perceived for the 
first time that our objective rock peak was cut off from 
us by a mighty cleft, or notch, in the mountain, with per- 
pendicular cliffs on either side some hundreds of feet in 
height. We were more than consoled, however, by the 
discovery that a snow-clad summit, invisible from Bear 
Creek, which rose straight in front of us and immediately 
to the right of the rock peak, was much higher ; and we 
had no doubt of our being able to climb it. A long, but 
easy, scramble up alternate rock and shale-slopes took us 
on to the final sno^j arete, which, as usual in these moun- 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 305 

tains, was very heavily corniced ; and we had to traverse 
along the slope, which was excessively steep, a consider- 
able distance from the edge. 

" At four in the afternoon, more than seven hours 
from the start, we stood on the maiden crest of Mt. 
Murchison. . . . To our surprise, and great delight, we 
found we were on one of two peaks of about equal height 
— the clinometer made ours slightly the higher — which 
easily over-topped all the other numerous pinnacles of 
the Murchison group." 

The bright and turbulent waters of Mistaya River 
mingle with the broad and muddy current of the North 
Saskatchewan in a wide valley bounded by mountain- 
ranges. The Middle Fork, flowing from Howse Pass, 
a flat and marshy plateau less than 5000 feet above the 
sea, between the Waputik and Freshfield Groups, first 
heads northward, receiving a considerable affluent from 
the Forbes and Freshfield Valleys ; skirting the far- 
reaching buttresses of Mt. Forbes, it makes a sudden 
bend at right angles round the flanks of Mt. Sarbach, the 
northern outpost of the Waputiks, where it is joined by 
the stream from Glacier Lake. Five or six miles lower 
down its principal tributary, the North Fork, largely 
augments its volume ; two miles farther on the South 
Fork enters, and the resultant river, already notable 
for size and strength, flows swiftly eastward, past the 
famous Kootanie Plain, — the ancient meeting-ground 
of Indians from the western slopes and fur-traders from 
the prairies, for annual market purposes, — through 
minor ranges, between each of which a new affluent 



3 o6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

comes down to swell the flood, and so on to the prairie 
and the sea. 

Of the three forks that unite to form the main river, 
the southern is by far the smallest, but it is one of the 
most objectionable of streams to cross. The waters are 
very swift and its bed is filled with boulders, large and 
small, continually shifting beneath the pressure of the 
forceful current. Often it is unfordable for days together 
even in summer-time, and at best it is a troublesome and 
sometimes dangerous undertaking to get across. We 
struck it in a favourable mood at the first attempt, though, 
even then, the swirling waters massed against the horses' 
flanks a full foot higher than on the sheltered side, and 
they had all their work cut out to keep their footing 
amongst the slippery, rolling boulders, as they braced 
against the waves. A few weeks later Fred's horse got a 
hoof fast for a moment between two stones and horse 
and rider were engulfed. Fred, fortunately a fine swim- 
mer, threw himself off to ease the pony, and swam to 
the nearer bank, happily only a few feet away. Toby, 
meanwhile, thus relieved, extricated himself and calmly 
proceeded on his way to the farther shore. Carried 
some way down the stream, he reached a small flat 
island and looked round with supercilious surprise and 
pity at his master, standing dripping on the bank from 
which he had just started. Fortunately a wetting was 
the worst penalty, but perhaps few swimmers, even 
strong ones, would escape in safety if such an accident 
happened in mid-stream. 

Our next water episode occurred about half an hour 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 307 

later in the Middle Fork. Ascending the right bank 
until above the junction with the North Fork, we 
selected a spot for crossing where a long spit of sand 
divided the river into two channels. Jim led the way, 
followed by the string of pack-horses. Many of them, 
unused as yet to deep fords and some comparatively 
new to packs, balked when the depth necessitated swim- 
ming, and all the energy of Fred and Peyto failed to 
prevent them heading back to shore. So Peyto tried, 
as they were used to following his trusty mare ; but they 
declined once more, and even the mare played Peyto 
false for the first time on record and ducked him most 
artistically when about half-way across. Finally Jim had 
to return, and eventually, by dint of drag and drive, the 
bunch was got across in detachments. 

Peyto now bade us farewell and returned to Banff 
with three of the pack-horses, as we had cached a portion 
of our provisions at Jim and Fred's trappers' hut at Bear 
Creek mouth, and ten horses were now sufficient for our 
needs. We next forded the North Fork, just escaping 
another swim, camped on a grassy knoll at the mouth of 
the river and spread our belongings out to dry in the 
hot sunshine. 

It was a lovely spot, with the river foreground and 
entourage of majestic peaks, the castellated mass of 
Mt. Wilson at our back and vistas up or down four val- 
leys, which here meet in an almost perfect cross. 

A brilliant day wore to an evening marked by mar- 
vellous storm effects of lurid light and sweeping clouds, 
massed like a pall of deepest purple over the black 



3 o8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

mountains that surrounded us, and culminated in a wild 
night of thunder, lightning, rain and hurricane. 

The Middle Fork we traversed nearly to its head at 
Howse Pass a few weeks later. The broad bed, flanked 
by sandy terraces or marshes, with a salt " lick " or two, 
beloved of mountain goats, is, during summer, cut by 
numerous winding channels, leaving stony flats between ; 
but in spring the whole width is occupied by the rolling 
tide, swollen by the melting snows and quite impassable. 
At the bend under Mt. Sarbach we crossed and scaled 
the high clay banks that mark the mouth of Glacier 
Creek. Here there are traces of abundant game, Rocky 
Mountain sheep and goats, which come to lick the salty 
surfaces. Just beyond a pale-blue lake near the outlet 
the stream is jammed with logs, which form a solid 
bridge, known from Dr. Hector's time in 1858 as a 
highway for animals across the rushing river and still 
in constant use. 

The trail required lots of chopping, but so numer- 
ous were the picturesque " bits " amongst the trees, upon 
the high cut-banks and more open slopes, that every 
step was fascinating and no wait too long. A few rods 
below Glacier Lake we turned up a game-trail leading 
steeply upward, and found an ideal camping-ground on 
the slopes about three hundred feet above the lake. 
Mt. Forbes confronted us with its dark massif, the 
minor summit most imposing though the main peak 
lay out of sight: on each side of its series of huge 
buttresses an exquisite vista opened out ; up the Middle 
Fork to the distant summits of Mt. Collie and Mt. 







309 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 311 

Habel on the Pacific side of the Divide; and across 
the sweep of Glacier Lake to the ice-falls of the Lyell 
Glacier and the ridge that marks the watershed. 

In pursuance of my plan to map the watershed, 
Kaufmann and I made an expedition to a snowy peak, 

— for which the name of Mt. Kaufmann is suggested, 

— occupying a commanding position between Mt. Lyell 
and Mt. Forbes. Laden with instruments, large cam- 
era, blankets and commissariat, we had a rough and tire- 
some tramp along the north shore of the lake, with 
endless mazes of fallen and burnt logs to traverse, and 
a still worse fight beyond, where we were driven fre- 
quently to the swampy ground through which the 
glacier stream wanders by a score of channels. Wet 
and wearied, we bivouacked at dark about a mile from 
the glacier, beneath a patriarchal cedar. There is a 
charm unspeakable about a night in the open. As one 
lies beneath the dark, star-lit canopy, cut fantastically by 
the tall and graceful spires of the forest trees, the grand 
solemnity of solitude and silence is unutterably 'impres- 
sive, and nowhere and at no other hour perhaps does 
communion with the Creator become so real, so intense, 
as in the untracked forests, amidst the everlasting hills, 
under the glittering lamps of heaven. 

The Lyell Glacier, sweeping broadly from the triple 
oeak of the mountain of that name, descends by one 
of the largest ice-falls known in sub-arctic regions and 
exceeding any in the Alps. It was first visited by Dr. 
Hector and is some eight miles in length. Just at its 
termination it is joined by a smaller glacier, compressed 



3 i2 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

between the spurs of Mt. Forbes and an isolated outcrop 
of bare, jagged rocks, protruding along the Continental 
watershed from an entourage of glaciers which encircle 
it completely. This smaller glacier — the Kaufmann 
Glacier — flows from a wide expanse of neve bounded by 
the Divide and receiving an affluent from the flank of 
Mt. Forbes' central pyramid. 

Our way led up the Kaufmann Glacier, or, when ice- 
falls barred our progress, by its steep left bank, and 
across a long stretch of neve directly to the base of our 
sharp, white, objective peak. It was uncanny work for 
two on a rope, for the huge crevasses were uncom- 
fortably hidden by a thick snow-mantle, soft enough to 
let us sink in deeply and render careful probing neces- 
sary every step. Many of these crevasses, too, were of 
the most objectionable type for an involuntary explora- 
tion. The ordinary form is of a V-shape, with more or 
less sloping walls narrowing towards the base. If the 
poor, hapless mountaineer falls into one of these, he can, 
while anchored by his comrade and dangling at the 
rope's extremity, cut a step with his ice-axe in the icy 
surface, and from that resting-place proceed to carve a 
staircase to the upper world, aided by the support of his 
companion. But several of the crevasses we examined 
here were of an inverted character, widening from the 
great surface crack towards the hollowed caverns of its 
sides. In such a place one might as well hope to cut 
and climb a stairway on a vaulted roof, nothing but 
sheer muscle could bring him out again, and any one 
who has attempted to hoist unaided a hundred and ninety 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 313 

pounds or more of man swinging beneath him in mid-air, 
will recognize how frail a hope exists for the victim of 
such an accident with but a single friend to lend his aid. 

As we toiled along upward through the weary snow, 
heavily laden, scorched by sun and snow-glare, we saw, 
careering lightly over the snow-field, two hundred yards 
or so ahead, a full-grown marten. He seemed to hesi- 
tate awhile when first he saw us and stood still for some 
moments, enabling me to get a good look at him 
through the glass and to see what a fine specimen of his 
tribe he was. His graceful, agile figure was outlined 
against the pure white snow which showed off his dark 
brown fur, with its rich paler markings, to the best effect. 
Then, in apparent unconcern, he continued his course, 
which was almost at right angles to our own, and, mov- 
ing easily up the steep slopes of snow, disappeared over 
a projecting ridge about 10,000 feet above sea-level, 
crossed the Divide and wandered down the rockier 
Pacific side into British Columbia, doubtless in search of 
a better menu than that provided by Alberta. 

How he made us moralize on the superior advantages 
of four feet over two and such a light and rapid tread ! 
No need for him of rope and ice-axe ; no need for cau- 
tious sounding and a winding course ; no heavy plodding 
through the soft snow for him. A bee-line straight to 
his goal, without a thought of danger or fatigue : happy 
marten ! Why do not we, human fanatics, of the so- 
called higher species, leave mountain-climbing to those 
so infinitely better fitted for the task? And yet, it is 
worth while. Yes, a thousand fold worth while to see 



314 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Nature under the conditions that the mountaineer alone 
can witness ; to understand and enter into its great 
heart ; to triumph over obstacles and learn the value of 
the endowment which makes man the master of created 
things. 

The final pinnacle of ice was excessively steep and 
hard, demanding much step-cutting and a ladder-like 
ascent to the tiny apex, some 10,200 feet above the sea. 
It is not one of the giant peaks of the Divide, but its 
position makes it a more important key to the topog- 
raphy than perhaps any other we ascended, with the 
exception of Mt. Lyell. The line of the watershed is 
most erratic, and Mt. Kaufmann stands like a bastion 
thrown out at an acute angle towards the west. South- 
ward the line turns at right angles where Mt. Dent ter- 
minates the Freshfield Group, runs eastward to Bush 
Pass (visited later; see p. 359), thence again at nearly 
ninety degrees towards our pinnacle. Here its zigzag 
leads once more to the east as far as the sharp ridge of 
dark rocks rising like an island from the sea of glaciers, 
and, bending sharply northward, follows its crest and 
onward to the westernmost of the three Lyell peaks. 

The next most interesting feature was the revelation 
of a new world of valleys on the Pacific slope, never 
before in all probability looked on by the eye of man. 
Beyond these towered the fine pyramid of Bush Peak, 
two other unnamed summits also calling for particular 
attention, whilst, in the far distance, the serrated outline 
of the Selkirks, in the midst of an atmosphere of haze, 
bounded the horizon. 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 315 

A third notable outcome of the expedition, which 
stood us in good stead a fortnight later, was the close 
study we were enabled to make of the north side of Mt. 
Forbes, its ponderous buttresses and intervening glaciers, 
and the steep face of its imposing final pyramid, set 
proudly on a vast massive pedestal covering an enormous 
area, a ramp of stainless snow whose knife-edged ridges 
culminate in a sharp point that pierces the blue heavens 
like a javelin. 

Night overtook us by the shores of Glacier Lake, 
and a second bivouac was forced upon us with a pain- 
fully restricted bill of fare ; but by 4.40 next morning 
we were safe in camp and the culinary resources of our 
chef once more appreciated at their proper value. 

The previous afternoon Professor Collie had " called," 
bringing the welcome news of the arrival of his party, 
with whom we had a rendezvous at Bear Creek that 
failed to materialize owing to sundry mishaps and heart- 
rending delays. Meantime they had made the first as- 
cent of Mt. Murchison, already chronicled (p. 303), and 
all were ready for the fray and eager to measure strength 
with the two chieftains of this neighbourhood, Mt. Fresh- 
field and Mt. Forbes. In driving rain and sleet we took 
our way down Glacier Creek, forded the Middle Fork 
and followed our friends up the long flats to the mouth 
of Freshfield Creek, where we espied their camp just 
pitched on the border-land between the flat and forest 
on the southern side. 

This meeting ushered in a most pleasant period of 
eleven days of climbing and companionship, sandwiched 



3 i6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

in between my two visits to the West Branch peaks. 
There were nine of them in the party : Professor Collie 
and Messrs. H. E. M. Stutfield and H. Woolley from 
good old England, Mr. G. M. Weed, an old climbing 
companion of mine, and a retinue headed by Fred 
Stephens, who shares with Peyto the reputation of being 
the best outfitter and leader in the Rockies, unsurpassed 
as a guide, philosopher and friend, always cheerful, al- 
ways ready for anything, work or otherwise, and A i in 
execution ; whilst Hans Kaufmann, brother of my Swiss 
guide, completed the outfit. 

Across the Middle Fork, here only three miles from 
its source on the pass beyond, the snowy triangle of 
Howse Peak, sharing with Mt. Balfour pride of place 
amongst the peaks of the Waputik Range, offered attrac- 
tions to the mountaineer which led Professor Collie's 
party, after I had said farewell, to make the first ascent 
on August 14th, finding it a simple but laborious climb, 
with a delightful view. " Emerging from the woods 
after a tiring climb of over two hours, 1 we followed a 
rocky ridge leading straight up towards our peak. Pres- 
ently, however, we found ourselves cut off by a couple of 
precipitous rock faces intersecting the ridge. The first 
was negotiated without much difficulty, but the second 
proved a more formidable affair. Hans and Woolley, 
after expending much time and labour and performing 
some really remarkable acrobatic feats, succeeded in 
getting down a perpendicular rock chimney about fifty 
feet high: the rest of the party, less avid of glory and 

1 " Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 286. 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 317 

doubtful if time would allow us all to follow in their 
wake, preferred the safer but more undignified course of 
descending into the valley and remounting to the ridge 
further on. The remainder of the climb was a long 



























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HOWSE PEAK 



snow grind, with only a few crevasses here and there 
that required a certain amount of care ; and we reached 
the top eight hours from the start. . . . 

" The summit is formed of a most enormous snow 
cornice running along the ridge for a great distance, 
and overhanging the terrific precipices which line 
the western side of Bear Creek above Waterfowl Lake. 
Crawling on our stomachs one by one to the edge, 
while the others held a firm grip of the rope, we looked 



3 i8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

over. The rocks fell absolutely sheer for some thou- 
sands of feet, and the valley, with its rolling pine-clad 
hills, and the river, a mere ribbon of pearly grey, wind- 
ing between green meadows and dull drab shingle-flats, 
lay spread out immediately below us." 

The principal motive for our meeting here was 
to attack Mt. Forbes, the king of the southern portion 
of the group that is bounded by the head-waters of the 
North Saskatchewan on the east, the Athabaska on the 
north, the Bush River on the west, and the Blaeberry 
on the south. Another objective was Mt. Freshfield, 
the chief peak of the group of the same name, lying 
southward from the massif of Mt. Forbes, and in order 
to give the big peak a better chance to shed some of 
its winter and more recent snow, we made our first 
move in the direction of the easier mountain. 

Our " boys " spent the afternoon of August ist cut- 
ting trail through the thick woods to the end of the 
Freshfield Glacier, and I took the opportunity of testing 
my three aneroids by Professor Collie's mercurial, and 
was agreeably satisfied with the results on this and sub- 
sequent occasions when comparisons with the standard 
were effected. The following morning, after making 
a large cache of provisions and unnecessary impedi- 
menta, we moved off in light order up the narrow 
canyon, getting some grand gorge views en route, and 
in two hours reached the glacier-tongue, camping amidst 
the trees only a few feet from its extremity, the altitude 
being about 5250 feet. 

That afternoon and the next were spent upon the 







320 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 321 

glacier, the early morning of the 3rd being too wet 
to think of doing any climbing. The glacier is a 
magnificent river of solid ice, almost entirely " dry " l 
and wonderfully free from crevasses throughout the six 
miles or thereabouts up to the base of Mt. Freshfield, 
which rises to a sharp point right in the centre of the 
long icy vista. Two great fields of neve, each sweeping 
from an amphitheatre of comparatively low and insig- 
nificant points with wide connecting ridges, descend 
from the north and south for three or four miles 
directly facing one another; meeting under the cliffs 
of Mt. Freshfield, they turn suddenly at right angles 
to the eastward, and continue their stately course in 
a mingled flow for six or seven miles of much more 
rapid descent. Forty-four years before our visit, Dr. 
Hector explored the lower portion and commented upon 
the remarkably large and rectangular blocks of limestone 
that were scattered on the surface. The same feature 
is characteristic of it to-day. Many of the rocks are 
doubtless identical with those he saw, having travelled 
several miles during the period that has elapsed. 

August 4th broke with a few fleecy clouds encircling 
Mt. Freshfield's summit, but we started at 4.20 and 
they cleared away as we proceeded. The party was a 
formidable one : five " Herren " and the two guides 
composed the climbing force, and Robson, who had 
never set foot on a glacier before, accompanied us to 
the base of our peak, a two-hour tramp. Thus far we 
had already a thorough acquaintance with the route, 

1 i.e. free from snow. 



322 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and Professor Collie had been within a thousand feet 
or so of the summit years before, when, in 1897, with Mr. 
G. P. Baker and Peter Sarbach, he reached the steep 
ridge leading directly to the top, where a halt for plane- 
table and photographic work led to the abandonment of 
the ascent; but, as a momentous result, the wide view 
of the giant peaks in the far north led him to return 
next year and seek their heights, with consequences that 
every lover of the mountains rejoices in. 

Bidding good-bye to Robson, we commenced the 
climb soon after seven, up cliffs and hard snow to an 
upper glacier where concealed crevasses in profuse abun- 
dance called for the rope to be brought into requisition, 
and a brief halt for this purpose was made as we faced 
the shapely form of Mt. Pilkington, radiantly beautiful 
with its shining curtain of pure snow. A good deal 
of tortuous meandering amongst the fine crevasses 
ensued as we swung round a cliff-base and worked 
upward, past a couple of huge schrunds, to a rocky 
outcrop on the main east arete. Here we halted for a 
second breakfast and a lazy rest, for we had plenty of 
time and no doubts about a fairly easy and successful 
issue. The rest of the ascent was chiefly on rocks ; 
some interesting corners, where we overhung a glorious 
precipice while clinging to the ice-bound fragments of 
a none too stable cliff, one or two chimney-like scram- 
bles up narrow icy gullies, some awkward traverses and 
an occasional acrobatic effort, gave us a pleasant and 
varied climb, and the sharp little summit, crested, of 
course, with a heavy cornice, was attained at 12.25, 
eight hours of leisurely going from the start. 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 323 

Unfortunately the wind was very strong and keen, 
a characteristic of the summer of 1902, when scarcely 
one ascent was made in calm weather, whereas the pre- 
vious year wind and cold were rare exceptions. This 
and the altitude were, however, the only disappoint- 
ments. We could not make the aneroids allow us 
more than 10,900 feet of elevation, and perhaps 10,800 
is a more likely figure. This was much below former 
estimates, and though we had expected some reduction, 
we were not prepared for such a drop as this. The 
view was simply wonderful, and extremely instructive 
to those of us who were students of the topography, 
though some of the higher peaks were capped with 
clouds. 

The zigzag course of the Divide was again a topic 
of special interest. After following the heights of the 
Waputik Range in an almost straight line, on reaching 
the apex of Howse Peak it suddenly becomes disgrace- 
fully erratic, turning off at right angles to cross the low 
plateau, where the Middle Fork and Blaeberry com- 
mence their divergent courses — an abrupt drop of 
6000 feet. Beyond Howse Pass it rises to the crests 
and ridges of the " Alpine Club " group, where it takes 
in Mt. Conway, and runs along the low range that 
curves to the main peaks which celebrate the names 
of Walker, Pilkington, Freshfield and Dent, all closely 
approximating the 11,000 feet mark. Another low re- 
taining wall bends to the east again from Mt. Dent, com- 
pleting the horseshoe within which the huge expanse of 
neve of the Freshfield Glacier is contained. 



324 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Most fascinating also was the view to the unknown 
west, where, just at our feet beneath the precipitous 
cliffs of our mountain, a large ice-field, with a long 
glacier-tongue, formed the head of the South Fork of 
the Bush River. A fine vista opened up along the 
valley, which is almost straight, between fine peaks 
and battlements, with numerous glaciers and resultant 
tributaries on either side, those on the flanks of the 
Continental watershed being particularly noticeable. 
Far in the distance, at the base of sheer Mt. Bryce, 
could be seen its junction with the North Fork, born 
of the snows of Mt. Columbia, and in the middle 
distance /Bush Peak and a nameless vis-a-vis stood 
guard above the stream. Southward a smaller glacier 
trends towards the Blaeberry under the shadow of Mt. 
Mummery. 

Parboiled by the intense August sun, par-frozen by 
the arctic wind, the majority were early driven down- 
ward, but Mr. Weed and Christian, who were on the 
rope with me, charitably braved the' unpleasant climatic 
conditions and gave me a longer license for photog- 
raphy and observations, for I had borne the larger cam- 
era to the top to try for a complete panorama. But 
fifty minutes marked the limit, and we crossed the sum- 
mit, descending the steep snows of this attenuated peak 
to a rocky outcrop, where, sheltered from the wind, we 
had a merry lunch in full view of Mt. Pilkington — 
a noble vision — directly opposite. A picturesque gap, 
broken abruptly in the narrow western wall connecting 
the two peaks, afforded a strikingly framed peep of the 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 325 

green lower world from our immediate entourage of 
ice and snow and bleak, bare precipice. 

Being thrust into the lead, my long legs set a tre- 
mendous pace down the snow-slopes, and though the 
intricacies of the crevassed neve required care and 
many a turn and twist, the big strides covered ground 
so rapidly that my unfortunate successor, Mr. Weed, 
whose sturdy limbs were fashioned less generously as 
to elongation, had a hard time of it to reach the tracks 
ahead, when I forgot they had to serve for those behind. 
No time was wasted anyway, and, freed from the rope 
at 3.15, we scrambled by any route down the final rocks 
and debris to the big glacier and back to camp soon 
after six. 

Next morning saw us back on the Freshfield flats, 
an hour sufficing for the journey down, and the tents 
were pitched beside Forbes Creek at a short distance 
from our previous location. A lazy, hazy afternoon was 
succeeded by a marvellous sunset. Sharply defined 
against a brilliant background of the richest, deepest 
blue, Howse Peak and the Pyramid stood out dead- 
white upon the eastern side. Westward, above the 
sombre wooded canyon, threaded by the cold, dancing 
waters of the creek, Mt. Forbes reared its huge crest, 
jet-black against a gorgeous sky, where tints of sea-green 
merged in pale and richer blue, the whole ethereal 
expanse embossed with fleecy, flying clouds of every 
hue conceivable, from darker slate to jade, pale sulphur 
deepening to orange, delicate pink to vivid crimson, 
as the dying rays flashed their " Good night " to our 



326 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

rest-seeking world : there, in the centre of this grand 
illumination, that seemed to have been kindled for 
its glorious display, the mighty mountain 

" Like a monarch stands, 
Crowned with a single star." 

Five days later seven mortals had the impertinence 
to set their feet upon this regal summit, but the king 
demands a separate chapter for the narrative of this 
adventure, and we must pass down the Middle Fork 
again and seek the northern affluent. The 12th of 
August saw our little party bid farewell to our late asso- 
ciates and turn its back upon Howse Pass and its 
beyond. The pass used to be a highway for the 
Indians, but fires and other deadly elements have 
wrought havoc in the valley of the Blaeberry, and it 
is now impassable for horses and would require a vast 
amount of labour to clear a way to the Columbia. 
Beyond the base of Mt. Habel, however, Peyto, when in 
charge of Professor Collie's outfit in 1897, managed to 
find a rough and terrifically steep way up the southern 
barrier and led his horses over Baker Pass in triumph 
to the Amiskwi Valley and thus down to Field. 

Twice we ascended the North Fork, once on either 
bank, and had considerable work to get the trail through 
on the western side. The regular road is good, but the 
valley is by far the most monotonous and least impres- 
sive of the three Forks that go to form the North 
Saskatchewan. The frowning ramparts of Mt. Wilson 
are imposing, but fifteen miles of them pall eventually 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 327 

upon the most enthusiastic, and, except for a fine cas- 
cade, high up in a deeply recessed upper gorge, and 
a few glimpses up the lateral valleys on the other side, 
there is but little to attract. The river is swift and of 
considerable volume, with a picturesque fall about a 
mile above its mouth, and until the West Branch is 
reached fording is possible at only one or two places 
and difficult even at the height of summer. Cotton- 
wood trees, willows and alders mingle with the ever- 
greens, and the thick bark of the cottonwoods under 
the skilful jack-knives of Jim and Fred was transformed 
into a variety of beautifully carved book-rests, frames, 
and other souvenir articles both useful and ornamental. 
Our first approach was under somewhat gloomy con- 
ditions ; a heavy pall of clouds oppressed the mountain- 
tops, damp and mist exuded everywhere, the trees and 
bushes reeked with moisture, and as the exigencies of 
the route drove us frequently from the open ground 
beside the swirling river and cut-banks forced detours 
through masses of fallen timber and into the green 
forests and thickets of tall willows, saturated with the 
rain of a stormy night, there were additional features 
of discomfort besides the usual monotony of the scene. 
Four hours that day and two on the next brought us to 
the mouth of what is called the West Branch of the 
North Fork. To me it seemed a larger stream than 
the so-called main river, besides being undoubtedly of 
greater length, and I am of opinion that it is the true 
North Fork, and that the supposed main stream is in 
reality the tributary, though, as the latter occupies the 



328 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

direct valley while the other comes in at a right angle, 
there is something in favour of the existing nomenclature. 1 

The weather had again been dull with heavy clouds, 
but as we proceeded on our way and neared the valley 
from the west, whither we were bound and where the 
bulk of our season's work was centred, far away at its 
head appeared a gleam of light, the only bright spot in 
the whole expanse of gloom, and I hailed it at once as 
an omen of success. Another amusing augury, point- 
ing to a safe and successful issue to our climbing plans, 
in spite of the undesirable two-on-a-rope conditions, lay 
in the happy and convincing fact that Kaufmann's and 
my initials formed the cipher " O. K.," and who could 
dream of misadventure in the face of that ? 

Fording the river, we camped in a pleasant spot 
upon a knoll some thirty feet above the flats, in the 
angle between the two streams. Our explorations in 
this vicinity lay entirely amongst the peaks and passes 
reached from the West Branch, and a separate chapter 
must be devoted to this region. The other valley has 
been a highway for many a long year to the head-waters 
of the Athabaska River. The earliest published record, 
however, seems to be that of Mr. Wilcox, who, in 1895, 
under the auspices of Bill Peyto, ascended to the pass 
that now bears his name, on his way to Fortress Lake. 
There was a trail, but it was ancient and much blocked, 
and the difficulties of the narrow valley were innumer- 

1 In view of the size and geographical importance of the river and valley, I 
would urge the adoption of some more convenient and euphonious name than 
the cumbrous present designation of "The West Branch of the North Fork 
of the North Saskatchewan ! " 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 329 

able. It is deeply set between high precipices and 
it was necessary to cross and recross the river very 
frequently. Near the head the scenery becomes very 
grand, waterfalls are numerous, lofty peaks come into 
view, and finally, the long, straight tongue of the Sas- 
katchewan Glacier, which supplies the greater part of the 
river's source, opens out to the west, pointing the way to 
the enormous Columbia ice-field (the extent of which, 
however, was not dreamt of for three years to come), 
and dominated by the grand mass of Athabaska Peak. 
In 1898 Professor Collie and Messrs. Stutfield and 
Woolley journeyed thither in a search after the truth 
concerning the mysterious altitudes of Mt. Hooker and 
Mt. Brown. From a camp just on the northern side 
of Wilcox Pass, an ascent of the great peak (Mt. Atha- 
baska) was accomplished by Professor Collie and Mr. 
Woolley, while Mr. Stutfield ranged the eastern hills in 
a triumphantly successful hunt for big game, as the 
larder had. shown that the party stood in imminent 
danger of starvation. A late start and subsequent delay 
occasioned by the pursuit and bagging of a brace of 
ptarmigan by stone-throw militated against the interests 
of the climbing party, but they had a splendid time. 
First a small glacier was traversed, then a rotten ridge 
so disagreeable that they crossed to the western glacier 
and worked their way up into a great basin just beneath 
the summit. An ice-slope next had to be ascended 
to the north-eastern ridge, and this was rapidly ac- 
complished. Here, writes Professor Collie, 1 "a very 

1 " Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 106. 



330 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

narrow and steep ice arete lay before us. At first 
there was sufficient snow to enable us to ascend by 
kicking steps, but soon Woolley was hard at work 
with the axe. For two hours almost without inter- 
mission was he cutting, and the ridge was almost too 
steep to allow us to change places. Finally we arrived 
at a small platform just underneath the precipitous 
rocks that guard the summit, only to find that they 
were perpendicular. By carefully skirting round their 
base to the right a narrow chimney was discovered. 
It was our last chance: either it had to be climbed, or 
we should return beaten. Owing to the excessively 
broken state of the limestone rock, produced probably 
by the great extremes of heat and cold, the climbing 
was not difficult ; but there were many loose rocks that 
to avoid needed exceeding care. With much caution 
bit by bit we managed to climb up this narrow chimney, 
expecting to come out within easy reach of the summit ; 
but, as we gained the ridge, a wall of overhanging rock 
fifteen feet high seemed to bar further progress. After 
what we had gone through down below, fifteen feet, 
even though it did overhang, was not going to keep 
us from the top. How it was surmounted I have for- 
gotten, but I remember how we saw the summit almost 
within a stone's-throw of us, and how at 5.15 p.m. we 
stepped on to it. By mercurial barometer its height is 
11,900 feet." 

This was the greatest height attained up to that 
date in Canada, and, in addition to that proud accom- 
plishment, they had the boundless satisfaction of obtain- 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 331 

ing a view of new peaks and new glaciers such as has 
never greeted any other climbers in that land of won- 
drous mountain scenes. 1 

Descending in haste by the north-west arete, in ever 
deepening shadow, they reached the more or less level 
ice just as the sunset hues were fading from the sky 
and, after stumbling along stony slopes and struggling 
through muskegs, fallen trunks and tangled brushwood 
finally got back to camp at eleven o'clock, to find that 
Mr, Stutfield had been equally successful in his quest 
and had secured three splendid Bighorn sheep, not to 
mention several ptarmigan. 

On our return from the West Branch, Kaufmann 
and I rounded off our season's work by the traverse 
of Mt. Wilson from end to end, whilst our camp outfit 
followed the trail to the mouth of the North Fork. 
This long-cherished scheme of mine gave me the oppor- 
tunity to look into all the tributary valleys on the west 
side of the valley below the West Branch, especially an 
interesting one studded with lakes, which had been 
observed for the first time on the occasion of our ascent 
of Mt. Lyell. Another desire was to ascertain the con- 
tour of the mountain and the configuration of the 
country to the east, besides getting observations of 
the long line of Divide peaks from a new angle. 

Starting on the 26th of August, at 445, from an old 
Indian camping-ground at the foot of Pinto Pass, an 
hour's walk down the valley of the North Fork brought 
us to the outlet of a narrow and lofty valley north of the 

1 See p. 373. 



332 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

massif of Mt. Wilson. A steep scramble of a thousand 
feet, along the line of a barely indicated Indian trail of 
some antiquity, led to the upland vale, whose slopes, 
jewelled with quite an array of flowers even at that late 
date, were traversed to the foot of a fine waterfall that 
leaps from the crest of a transverse wall of rock some 
three hundred feet in height. Crossing to the left 
bank (a very troublesome job), we climbed the barrier, 
traversed a barren valley, and ascended a long ridge 
running north-east from the northern peak of the moun- 
tain, following in the wake of a disturbed he-goat. 
When high up we discovered that this route was not so 
advantageous as had at first sight appeared, and we were 
confronted by the alternatives of having to return and 
double the end of the arete, or find a way down the al- 
most vertical cliffs to the long glacier on the farther side. 
A sporting little climb resulted from the adoption of the 
latter method, the three hundred feet occupying fifty 
minutes. Gaining the glacier at 11.15, it was ascended 
to its head, between Mt. Wilson proper and the northern 
peak, and a grand view towards Mt. Lyell opened out 
as we stood above a tremendous gorge, walled in pre- 
cipitously on either side. A traverse on snow and 
debris led to the north-east ridge of our mountain, and, 
keeping along its crest, an easy task on firm, hard snow, 
at 2 p.m. we reached the summit, 1 1,000 feet above the sea. 
On it we built our first cairn of the season ! No 
other peak of the ten big ones climbed that summer, 
except one ascended in the dark, had stones upon its 
top. The view was one of the most delightful of the 



THE SOURCES OF THE NORTH SASKATCHEWAN 333 

year. Besides the new country now displayed towards 
the north and east, the panorama furnished a complete 
resume of our entire trip, and no other mountain could 
have offered so perfect an ideal for a consummation 
of the summer's mountaineering. Mt. Temple, in the 
far distant south, marked our starting-point at Laggan ; 
then Bow Pass led to the long, narrow trench of the 
South Fork, and the eye followed up the Middle Fork 
to Glacier Lake and Kaufmann Peak, Mt. Freshfield 
and magnificent Mt. Forbes; the North Fork, glistening 
at our feet, 6000 feet below, was traced mile by mile to 
its farthest source at the head of West Branch Valley, 
hemmed in by Mts. Lyell, Alexandra, Consolation, 
Turret, Bryce and finally Columbia. 

What memories those peaks and passes, streams and 
valleys, conjured up ! Toils and fatigues, dangers and 
difficulties, certainly; but oh, what crowning joys and 
satisfying conquests. A thousand times worth while 
to have fought with Nature's forces in their strongest 
holds, even had Nature proved victorious. But victory 
was ours. Those proud crests had yielded to the 
skill, training and experience of man, and from their 
matchless vantage grounds secrets of Nature, hidden 
for centuries, had been revealed ; and the vast sea of 
mountains, in all their majesty of might, the attendant 
valleys filled with treasures of most perfect beauty, 
glacier and forest depth, sparkling stream and flower- 
decked glade, have graven with imperishable strokes 
upon my memory a record that will be a never-ceasing 
joy through life. 



334 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

A descent over soft snow and a fine piece of rock- 
work, undertaken to avoid the dangers of an abominably 
crevassed and thickly covered glacier, terminated in our 
arrival at a sharp little nick in the otherwise impreg- 
nable southern wall at half-past four, almost two hours 
from the summit. Another half-hour was occupied by 
a most welcome lunch, and then we romped down a steep 
gully of scree and grassy slopes (2500 feet in twenty- 
five minutes), from which point a tedious tramp ensued, 
through tall grass and underbrush, forests and dense 
thickets, all strewn with fallen logs, both large and small, 
burnt and decayed, till our pleasant camp on the banks 
of the Saskatchewan was reached at half-past six. 

Next day the swim across the big river was accom- 
plished without any of the trouble that marked our first 
essay, and two days later we crossed Bow Pass and bade 
farewell to the enchanting region of the head-waters of 
the North Saskatchewan. 



CHAPTER XII 

MOUNT FORBES 

For forty-seven years Mt. Forbes has borne the 
reputation of being one of the grandest and most lofty 
peaks of the Canadian Rockies, and though in our 
latter day it has been necessary for us to reduce the 
number of prosaic feet above sea-level which had during 
all these years been ascribed to it, yet nothing can reduce 
its claim to admiration and respect. It still remains the 
monarch of the region, where it rears its splendid fore- 
head far into the skies, more than a thousand feet above 
its neighbours, and without a rival save Mt. Columbia, 
thirty miles away, and far Mt. Robson, sixty miles 
beyond. 

This magnificent three-sided pyramid rises from a 
mass of mighty spurs and buttresses, with narrow ridges 
and stupendous cliffs. The splendid monolith, combin- 
ing (like Mt. Assiniboine, which it in many ways con- 
spicuously resembles) the appearance of the Dent 
Blanche and the Matterhorn, was named by Dr. Hector 
in 1858, and has always evoked the admiration of all 
who have had the privilege of seeing it from far or near. 
To the mountaineer it is particularly fascinating, offer- 
ing an absolutely first-class problem in rock-work, and 
the great desire of both Professor Collie and myself to 

335 



336 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

try conclusions with it in the year 1902 led us to ar- 
range in London a meeting at the base of the great 
mountain in the latter portion of July. 

Professor Collie was no stranger to its neighbour- 
hood. In 1897, with Peter Sarbach, he ascended to 
the shoulder, but heavy rain drove them back when 
little beyond timber-line, having barely seen the peak 
itself, enveloped as it was in a dense shroud of mist. 
So it remained virtually untouched and unexplored. 
On the day following our return from the Freshfield 
region the weather was so exquisite, that, to utilize its 
perfection to the best advantage, we determined to 
ascend a lofty ridge opposite our camp, and spend our 
time in prospecting Mt. Forbes, in preparation for the 
serious climb that lay before us, that we might study at 
close quarters its approaches and its character; and„ 
besides reconnoitring the peak itself, examine the topog- 
raphy of the spurs and valleys on the eastern side of the 
massif. 

Our men were all busy labouring in the forest, hew- 
ing out a trail through the thick timber that clothes the 
valley leading to the mountain's base, and it was well on 
in the morning before we set out leisurely. As with the 
" ten little niggers," events combined to thin our num- 
bers by degrees. The first episode was more amusing 
than tragic. A swift, icy stream, three or four feet in 
depth and rushing turbulently along, intervened between 
us and our goal. A tree had been felled across it to 
form a bridge, — the customary practice in these parts, 
— but it was rather slim and very slippery, and we were 



MOUNT FORBES 337 

not Blondins by any means. Two members of the party 
solved the problem by getting astride the trunk, hook- 
ing their toes upon it to keep them out of the swirling 
water only a few inches below ; then they worked their 
passage to the other side with much labour and not 
to the conspicuous improvement of certain articles of 
apparel, but greatly to the entertainment of the rest of 
us, who, however, did not feel equal to a more upright 
course of procedure. A happy thought suddenly struck 
an ingenious mind, and a long pole was obtained, one 
end planted firmly in the shingle, the other gripped by 
the performer ; this acting as a support, we could main- 
tain our equilibrium fairly well as far as about the middle 
of the bridge ; its length then gave out, but a few hasty, 
wabbling steps effected the transit without catastrophe, 
and in turn we gave a gratuitous and entertaining exhibi- 
tion on the tight-rope. But one still remained unwilling. 
He had a precious rifle and no wish for a bath for it, 
however little he might mind it for himself ; the chances 
per contra loomed too large, and thus it happened that, 
when the biggest herd of goats we ever saw was strolling 
about the mountain-side within easy range of the other 
six, the sportsman par excellence of the party and the 
only one who thought of bringing a rifle was far away. 
Which was so much better for our friends the goats. 

Our course now lay through a fragrant forest of 
spruce, balsam and pine. The going was pretty easy : 
fallen trunks were few ; the undergrowth comparatively 
light ; the trees were not too densely packed together ; 
and a slight breeze tempered the heat of the cloudless 






33 8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

morning. Ascending gently over the mossy turf, 
spangled with myriads of white, starry blossoms, we 
soon struck more sharply upward along a swathe of 
open ground, cut by a snow-slide from the lofty cliffs 
overhead. A rich carpet of brilliant flowers lay out- 
spread beneath our feet, the gorgeous scarlet of the 
painter's-brush particularly resplendent. On either side 
of this flower-strewn aisle the tall, straight stems and 
waving, feathery boughs of fir and pine were ranged 
majestically; up the steeps in front rocky bands of 
limestone cropped out between the masses of green 
foliage and many-tinted blossoms ; and, far above, a 
rampart of dark cliffs crowned the upland slopes, out- 
lined like steel against the radiant blue of the summer 
sky. 

After a brief halt midway, each followed his own 
devices in the line of ascent : some fast, some slow ; one 
this way and another that ; and soon I found myself 
alone, passing through the sparse, stunted trees that 
verge the timber-limit, and approaching a wide, verdant 
upland, where heather, red and white, dryas, anemones, 
yellow mountain lilies, painter's-brush of many hues, 
great purple and yellow asters, and masses of exquisite 
forget-me-nots, with countless less conspicuous flowers, 
grew in wild profusion. Behind, across the deep valley, 
over whose dark abyss a golden eagle hovered lazily, its 
plumage radiant in the clear sunlight, stood a shapely 
snow-crowned peak, encircling a beautiful, pure glacier; 
farther away a host of mountains girdled the horizon, 
and in the purple depths the various streams that form 






MOUNT FORBES 339 

the head-waters of the North Saskatchewan shimmered 
in a haze of heat. 

Away to the west, the scene was entirely monopolized 
by the tremendous mass of Mt. Forbes ; the precipices 
facing me across a much-crevassed glacier loomed black 
and threatening; the abrupt north-east ridge was in- 
finitely steep and broken with rocky needles and sheer 
buttresses ; the south arete was longer and set at a less 
fearsome angle, and was evidently the most promising, if 
not the only, line of ascent from the Forbes Valley, but 
it displayed at least three very awkward cliffs for the am- 
bitious climber to negotiate ; rugged spurs stretched out 
from the main pyramid, holding glaciers deep down in 
every cleft; and, above all, soft, fleecy clouds floated in 
the still air, their purity contrasted exquisitely with the 
brilliancy of the azure sky and the dark gloom of each 
enshadowed precipice. 

To the north the alp sloped steeply to a long and 
almost level ridge, the bare gray of whose shaly side 
was broken by frequent large patches of winter snow : 
on its far side a vertical wall, ten to twelve hundred feet 
in height, crested by overhanging cornices of snow, 
dropped to a fine glacier, whose mighty fissures opened 
wide their deep blue caverns immediately below. But 
the most delightful feature of the scene was the appear- 
ance of three herds of Rocky Mountain goats. 

A peripatetic group of ten was wandering along 
the scree above an amphitheatre of rocks, where a 
small green valley headed. A little to the right another 
bunch of perhaps a dozen was browsing leisurely on the 



340 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

sparse grass that grows amongst the debris, so scantily 
that from a short distance its identity is merged in the 
universal gray of the prevailing shale and boulders. 
These, too, were trending slowly in the same easterly 
direction, towards the spot where the main tribe was 
gathered. Here more than thirty goats were scattered 
over a small area — goats of all sizes and apparently all 
ages, from shaggy patriarchs to tiny kids only a few 
weeks old. 

It was a fascinating occupation to watch them 
through the glass, while waiting for my friends to 
join me. Here, a little group of mothers, with timid 
babies nestling close to their protecting sides and 
trotting spasmodically along when the parents changed 
their ground ; one or two were blissfully engaged in 
drawing their mid-day meal from the maternal fount; 
others, somewhat older and more independent, frolicked 
around in youthful gambols or wandered away a little 
distance on their own account; and one such, fright- 
ened by his too distant solitude, came tearing headlong 
to his dam in wildest perturbation, leaving a trail of 
dust and flying stones behind him, and terminating 
his mad career by a terrific somersault. 

The stalwart, full-grown animals strode solemnly 
along, intent for the most part on the seemingly univer- 
sal and all-important business of dinner ; occasionally 
halting to throw up their massive heads and stand with 
noble pose, gazing around them like monarchs surveying 
the entire world as their domain. 

The three groups ere long merged in one strikingly 



MOUNT FORBES 341 

picturesque herd, more than fifty strong, and, following 
the lead of a magnificent he-goat with splendid shaggy 
limbs and a huge pair of horns, moved quietly towards 
the topmost ridge. No order was observed, but, strag- 
gling up the slope by twos and threes, they shortly 
disappeared behind a projecting shoulder of the moun- 
tain-side. 

Three or four hours later, after a long reconnais- 
sance towards Mt. Forbes and thence along the summit 
of the ridge for a considerable distance, I was descend- 
ing over the same flower-decked alp to rejoin the other 
members of the party, who had not . made so long a 
round, when, lifting my eyes to the great cliffs con- 
tinuing the ridge towards the east, my steps were sud- 
denly arrested by a wonderful sight. Above the rugged 
walls, now blushing with a softer glow as the setting 
sun intimated his early disappearance behind the near 
mountain ranges in the west, a long line of my ac- 
quaintances were standing immovable upon the top- 
most heights, in sharpest outline against the pale blue 
of the evening sky. I counted them as they paused 
there like statues, each limb and head clearly defined 
in the brilliant light. There were twenty-seven in all, 
almost every one full-grown, apparently engaged in 
watching eagerly, with interest equal to my own, from 
the security of their castled refuge, the human intruders 
who had ventured thus unbidden into their ancestral 
solitudes. There I left them, long, I trust, to enjoy, 
immune from accident, starvation, or the deadly rifle, 
the active life, care-free amid these mountain fastnesses, 



342 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

for which they were created and which they surely have 
a right to live in peace. . 

Two days later our trail was ready, and on a bright 
morning, after a vivid display of lightning overnight 
and some heavy rain, our cavalcade was once more 
set in motion for the great attempt upon Mt. Forbes. 
Crossing the creek, we plunged into the forest and 
made our way up the left bank. Side-streams with 
steep and rugged banks cut across our route, and Fred 
Stephens' warning that the horses would have to stand 
occasionally on their heads was wonderfully near a 
literal accomplishment ; but though the trail was rough 
and showed evidences of tremendous axe-work, all went 
well and in less than two hours we emerged at a broad 
open space cleared in some bygone year by a mighty 
avalanche, that crossed the stream, bearing its debris of 
wrecked timber some distance up the opposing slope, 
and piled it in a huge bulwark against the sturdy 
trunks of their more fortunate brethren. Our tents 
were pitched in the green bosom of the narrow valley, 
which heads right under the frowning precipices of 
the great peak. Huge firs encircled the open grassy 
meadow, an eddying glacier stream sparkled amongst 
the boulders and bushes that line its course, and nearly 
7000 feet above towered the lofty summit. 

The forests here were more luxuriant than are 
usually found upon the eastern slopes of the Divide. 
The rainfall round the Forbes and Freshfield Groups 
appears to be heavier, and the mossy carpet, dense un- 
dergrowth and larger timber approximated more closely 







MT. FORBES 



343 



MOUNT FORBES 345 

to the conditions on the Pacific side. I also came 
across more flowers in the Forbes Creek valley than 
anywhere else in all my wanderings, both in variety and 
luxuriant abundance. On the high " Golden Eagle " 
alp, the shoulder of Mt. Forbes, and, above all, at the 
upper end below Bush Pass, the masses of rich, varie- 
gated colouring more nearly resembled a cultivated 
nursery garden than a wild mountain-side. 

The afternoon was showery again and not much 
exercise was taken. Off days and half days nevertheless 
have their value, besides giving often a much-needed 
rest. They afford opportunity for writing up notes and 
making calculations; laundry work has to be attended 
to occasionally, and the demands upon the needle are 
numerous. The sharp, serrated edges of the limestone 
crags, the wicked spikes with which the pines are 
armed, the ambushed broken limbs of fallen logs, 
besides the ordinary wear and tear, are hard on 
clothing, and the long tramps test the endurance even 
of home-knitted Scotch yarn stockings. 

A cold night was a good omen, a quarter of an inch 
of ice forming in the buckets. Bright sun and masses 
of exquisite cumulus clouds gleamed overhead, as at 
2 p.m. our party moved out of camp to bivouac at 
timber-line on the shoulder of Mt. Forbes, the climbers 
being reenforced by Stephens and Robson, who kindly 
came along to help us with our impedimenta of 
blankets and two days' provisions. All nature was 
at its loveliest (except for a slightly undue supply of 
heat, mosquitoes and horseflies), and the weather prom- 



346 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

ised the very best for our success, as the long string- 
of hopeful but perspiring mortals threaded its way 
under heavy burdens through trackless wastes of forest 
trees and undergrowth up the steep flanks of the huge 
outlying buttress of our mountain. We got separated 
into several sections early in the march, and the sub- 
division to which I belonged had an amusing time 
crossing an ancient log that spanned a deep ravine 
above a raging torrent and this precarious means of 
transit called for a good head and steady foot to achieve 
a dignified passage in an upright position. We arrived 
first, however, and found a charming spot to bivouac, 
where a warm and comfortable night was spent. Right 
opposite the camp was the grand snow peak conspicuous 
across the valley from the alp of our reconnaissance, 
and, as it was the Coronation Day of King Edward and 
Queen Alexandra, we gave it the name of " Coronation 
Peak." 

Next morning, the ioth of August, we were astir 
by three o'clock, and started on our climb shortly before 
half-past four. A long and narrow ridge projects to 
the south-west from the snow-crowned summit of ML 
Forbes, rough and jagged throughout almost its entire 
length. It was of the customary disintegrated lime- 
stone of the Canadian Rockies and broken near the 
top by three formidable cliffs, which from a distance 
appeared quite inaccessible and made the prospect of 
a successful ascent extremely doubtful. But the more 
numerous and serious the difficulties, the greater the 
attraction for the true mountaineer, and the greater 



MOUNT FORBES 347 

the satisfaction if skill and patience can surmount the 
obstacles and win a way to the desired goal. 

The earlier approaches to this ridge were over green 
slopes carpeted with flowers. These soon gave place 
to barren wastes of debris, and a tiresome pull ensued 
over its sliding scree until the rocks came to our relief, 
and a more rapid and agreeable progress was possible. 
Then a long stretch of snow-covered glacier was 
reached, sweeping from the crest of the arete to an 
icy basin just above our bivouac. Up to this point we 
had proceeded leisurely and in loose order, while keep- 
ing within hail of one another. Now the rope became 
necessary as the more serious work commenced, requir- 
ing caution, discipline and order. We tied up in two 
parties, Christian, Mr. Weed and I leading, and the 
remaining quartette, headed by Hans, forming the sec- 
ond contingent. The snow was firm after the frosts 
of night, and all was plain sailing except for a few 
crevasses that had to be turned ; so in less than half 
an hour we were again on rocks, making our way up 
loose, angular stones and easy ledges to the ridge, 
which was to form our general line of ascent thence- 
. forward to the summit. 

A narrow ridge it was, too, with frequent precipices 
on one or both sides, which increased in steepness with 
their altitude, until the sheer black ramparts fell almost 
vertically to the distant glaciers that swept their bases. 
From a distance there had been little hint of anything 
but quick and simple progress up the first part of the 
arete, but closer acquaintance revealed the existence 



348 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

of a more troublesome state of affairs than we had 
anticipated. The ridge was very jagged, and the cliffs 
steeper and smoother than they had appeared to be. 
The substance, being of friable limestone, disintegrated 
and eroded by the alternate influence of heat and frost, 
was weathered, loose, and treacherous in the extreme. 
Sometimes we were clambering up the broken, indented 
rocks right on the sky-line ; at others, forced to make 
excursions on to the eastern face, a ledge of varying 
size but never of striking width would be our pathway 
for a short distance, overlooking a sharp descent of 
rock and snow; patches of hardened snow or loosened 
scree occasionally took the place of ledges as we worked 
along from gully to gully in the scored face of a suc- 
cession of escarpments, and by their means pursued an 
ever upward course. These gullies furnished many 
a disagreeable experience for the unfortunate hinder 
man. Most of them seemed to be a natural track for 
all the loose stones and debris from the rocks above. 
Small fragments rested on every available projection, 
and had to be dislodged or came down of their own 
accord as the leader scrambled up. The rotten walls 
were studded with insecure excrescences, a majority 
of which failed to stand the strain when tested by 
the guide, and broke away beneath his foot or in his 
hand. The last man's lot is, therefore, not a happy 
one. He has to bear with meekness all the hail of 
debris, often sharp and weighty, and does not have 
the satisfaction of kicking down his share upon the 
head of some one else. 



MOUNT FORBES 349 

Under a raking fire these ramparts had to be 
stormed in turn, but scaled they were at last without 
serious damage, and by ten o'clock we stood upon a 
minor elevation on the arete (compared by Professor 
Collie to the Pic Tyndall on the Matterhorn, and cor- 
responding to the " Lost Peak " on Mt. Assiniboine), at an 
altitude of about 10,800 feet, and separated from the main 
peak by a slight depression. Meanwhile a second break- 
fast had been done ample justice to, sheltered from the 
keen and blustering wind a little way below the top- 
most edge, where we spent a pleasant hour seated on 
blocks of quartzite in our lofty eyrie above the precipices 
of the eastern face. 

From the detached pinnacle we scanned with intense 
interest and much anxiety the cliffs upon the farther side 
of the small gap. They were the crux of the whole 
enterprise. Our observations of the mountain had re- 
vealed three formidable obstacles, barring the approach 
by this south-western route, in the shape of three very 
upright cliffs, two close together just beyond our present- 
situation, and the third still higher and not far from the 
actual summit. Our powerful field-glasses had left the 
problem still uncertain. Undoubtedly no possibility 
existed of escaping them, for the wall on either side 
rose sheer and the advance was restricted practically 
to the ridge itself. The fate of the expedition hung 
on the condition of the rocks. Provided there were a 
few excrescences firm enough to rely upon and not too 
far apart, or even roughnesses sufficient to supply fric- 
tion in the most critical and awkward stages, and thus 



350 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

aid the struggling climber when more desirable assist- 
ance failed, we believed that the steepness would be 
no fatal hindrance. But for these details the glasses 
proved inadequate at such a distance. Now we stood 
face to face with the two lower cliffs, and our eager eyes 
examined foot by foot the smooth, straight battlements. 
The weathering of the face, some tiny transverse cracks 
and a tiny cleft or two gave ground for hope, and our 
spirits rose accordingly. With such a fine rock-climber 
as Christian Kaufmann to lead the way, if there were 
any possibility of a human being scaling those heights,, 
our success was, I felt confident, assured. But it was 
going to be no child's play to gain the lofty eminence 
that made our necks ache as we looked so straight up 
to its dizzy pinnacles, whilst on either side the black, 
rough precipices, seamed by gullies filled with glassy 
ice or hardened snow, fell away abruptly to the white 
glaciers thousands of feet below. 

Unfortunately our supply of ropes was rather in- 
adequate for such work as here confronted us. Our 
trio possessed a sixty-foot length, and the other party had 
eighty feet among the four, neither of them nearly long 
enough for comfort, considering the difficulty of the 
rocks. For ordinary purposes, fifteen or eighteen feet 
is the allotted distance between each pair of climbers, 
but on tremendous cliffs like those of Mt. Forbes, with 
a scarcity of proper holds and resting-places, such an 
allowance is most insufficient. Seldom within so short 
a space can solid and large enough foot-holds be found 
to enable the leader to stand secure and render any 



MOUNT FORBES 35 i 

needful assistance to the man behind, or be in a position 
to hold him or to prevent himself being jerked down 
also should a slip occur. With thirty or forty feet he 
could attain some firm location and be able to counter- 
act the effects of any contretemps to the next climber on 
the rope. In the same way, again, has No. 2 to cling in 
a precarious position whilst the guide moves upward for 
another spell. Moreover, the more there are in a direct 
line, the greater the chance of accident from falling 
stones. 

Three hundred feet or more of cliff had thus to be 
negotiated, the greater part of it of the most interesting 
and exciting nature, all nerves at the utmost tension. 
Not a moment of slackness or cessation of watchfulness 
and care is possible. Whether himself engaged in 
climbing onward, or intent upon the progress of a com- 
rade, a keen lookout is constantly imperative, a readiness 
for any possible emergency, however seemingly unlikely 
its occurrence may appear, a knowledge and forewarned- 
ness of what to do if that emergency should suddenly 
arise ; these thoughts must dominate one's whole atten- 
tion. Lives may depend upon the action of a single 
moment. A second's relaxation on the part of one 
individual may be fatal to the entire party. The prac- 
tised forethought that grasps the possible contingency, 
the quickness of eye that notes the sudden need, the 
instant application of the proper remedy in the imme- 
diate correspondence of hand and foot, may prove the 
safety of all in time of danger. No true mountaineer 
takes anything for granted in such a place, except the 



352 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

fact that everything is unreliable, and that he must live 
in expectation of an accident. To those who climb like 
this there rarely if ever comes the realization. In moun- 
taineering, as in many other things, to despise is crim- 
inal, to relax is dangerous ; and it is to those who do 
not expect an accident that it will come. 

In these circumstances, after our trio had embarked 
upon the climb, Professor Collie detached himself from 
the other rope, disinterestedly preferring to abandon 
the ascent rather than increase the risk of his com- 
panions by the presence of a fourth member; and he 
retired to the minor peak to watch our upward prog- 
ress. When both parties had successfully achieved 
the apex of the second cliff, Christian and Hans, with 
their habitual good-nature and enthusiasm, responded 
cordially to my suggestion to go down again and accom- 
pany Professor Collie, who deserved more than all the 
rest the gratification and honour of being the first to 
conquer Mt. Forbes, since he was the pioneer climber 
in the region and had already been disappointed, by 
reason of bad weather, in a previous attempt. 

The actual climb was a continuous call to brain and 
body to exercise their powers and energies to the fullest 
possible extent. Gymnastics entered largely into the long 
and varied climb. Sometimes five, six or seven feet up a 
decent hold is found, and all below is glassy ; or perhaps 
the upper portion overhangs. A pull up then is neces- 
sary; or far away a little foot-rest may be discovered 
about the level of the shoulder, and the climber swings 
across to get a moment's purchase which enables him 



MOUNT FORBES 353 

to plant his other knee upon the tiny rocky shelf that 
he is gripping tightly with his straining hands. Perhaps 
a comrade's back, a lusty push, or an impromptu step 
formed by an ice-axe held securely by No. 2, is needed 
to hoist the leader within reach of a specially lofty and 
difficult ledge or crack, by which he pulls himself up by 
an acrobatic effort. Another time we find ourselves in 
a sort of chimney, with one side open, and force our way 
up largely by pressure against the slippery parallel walls 
and by the aid of any cracks or protruding fragments 
that may happen to turn up. Again, we are swarming 
up a rugged buttress, with arms and legs embracing its 
opposite sides, hugging it painfully with every portion 
of the body that can get some grip. Knees and arms 
cling to the roughened surface when holds for hands 
and feet are absent, and here, as on many a slab and 
steeply inclined face of rock, friction affords assistance 
which is astonishingly valuable. Once we were reduced 
to progress by the hands alone, on a section of the 
second cliff, where, on the rapidly descending ridge, 
precipitous on either side, our bodies spread upon the 
western slabs of rock, our fingers clutching the sharp 
knife-edge that formed the sky-line, we hang and cling 
as we work sideways and upward foot by foot until at 
last our feet again find somewhat of a ledge to stand 
upon. Traversing, in another place, along a narrow 
ledge, face inward, rounding a buttress to reach a more 
accessible piece of the rock-face, the art of balancing is 
brought into play, and this feature is one of the most 
notable tests of an expert climber. The marvellous 



2A 



354 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

results obtained with comparative ease and small output 
of strength and energy by the skilled mountaineer by 
means of a perfect equipoise are most astounding to 
the novice ; speed, safety and success are the rewards 
of mastery in balancing. 

And it was upon the face of a stupendous precipice 
that all this climbing was encountered. There was not 
much opportunity to enjoy the wonderful effects and 
striking details suggested by a fleeting glance down the 
sheer mountain-side up which we climbed so tediously. 
Every attention had to be paid to the work before us, if 
we desired to escape the risk of a still more fleeting 
glimpse of these details in a hurried and involuntary 
descent to the white glaciers that gleamed so sug- 
gestively below, apparently so close, but in reality thou- 
sands of feet away. Such visions as we got of vertical 
escarpments, jagged points of broken rock, icy gullies 
and tremendous drops into the far abyss, were thrilling 
enough as we clung to the treacherous cliff like flies on 
the wall of a house. 

At length, a strenuous effort landed us on the pin- 
nacle which crowns the upper wall. We stood as it were 
in mid-air! On two sides, nothingness for many thou- 
sand feet; in front, three hundred feet of cliff, so steep 
we wondered how we ever managed to ascend, dropping 
to the narrow ridge of our approach, that stretched 
away to the distant forest valley, where our tents were 
glistening in the sunlight. Beyond was a vast alpine 
panorama, upon whose countless ranges, with scarcely 
an exception, we could even then look down. From 



MOUNT FORBES 355 

this sharp rocky apex we passed along a narrow cause- 
way, with a marvellous polished precipice straight below 
us on the left, and gained a temporary resting-place, 
where we were joined soon after twelve by Professor 
Collie and the guides. 

A few minutes later we were all once more en route, 
the pure white, corniced crest right before us, close at 
hand, and only one remaining problem between us and 
victory. This was cliff No. 3, the base of which we 
speedily attained by easy slopes of snow and scree, 
to find it abominably rotten: loose fragments lay on 
every available resting-place, and holds were scarce and 
most unreliable. Though dozens of pieces were hurled 
into the abysses below, there was still considerable in- 
convenience from the chance of falling stones. This 
trouble is, of course, exaggerated on a first ascent. If a 
dozen parties were to climb Mt. Forbes, each doing its 
share of clearing away the debris and eliminating the 
unsubstantial holds, all danger and much of the present 
difficulty would be removed, and a far more rapid and 
congenial climb result. Despite the fusillade of falling 
stones, however, our storming of the fortress proceeded 
satisfactorily; on the same lines as previously, the final 
battlement was won. 

But on our arrival at its top an unexpected diffi- 
culty was encountered, which proved one of the most 
trying and certainly one of the most hazardous pieces 
of work in the ascent A very narrow causeway, per- 
haps eighteen inches wide, between two fine precipices, 
connected the head of the cliff with the final snowy 



356 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

mass of the summit. It was composed of rock in the 
last stage of disintegration, topped by a loose agglom- 
eration of strange plaques of stone, from twelve to 
twenty inches long, two to four in width, and about 
half an inch in thickness, piled in wild confusion. This 
was backed by a wall of winter snow, fully as rotten 
as the rock, ready to sheer off at the slightest touch 
and avalanche in one tremendous leap to the mountain's 
base. Whether the rock held up the snow or vice 
versa, or the support was mutual, seemed a moot point,, 
both looked so frail and tottering. A violent wind, 
moreover, which had been a supplementary difficulty 
to contend with all the morning caused the entire place 
to quiver and did not aid our equilibrium or the sta- 
bility of this fragile pathway. Happily the distance 
was not great and Christian warily advanced. The 
snow one dared not even touch ; the rattling stones 
scarcely allowed of any pressure without sliding under- 
foot. With cat-like tread each balanced step was taken 
till he gained a firmer stand upon the farther side,, 
though even there the prospects of an avalanche were 
not convincingly remote. Then Mr. Weed's turn came, 
and, as he stepped from the worst place, a huge mass 
of rock detached itself from the main ridge, and, with 
a rattling accompaniment of loosened fragments, thun- 
dered down the western precipice, leaving a shelving 
slope of rotten debris even more awkward to traverse 
than the original narrow and shaky path. However, 
an elongated stride and a convulsive effort accom- 
plished the most treacherous portion of the undertak- 



MOUNT FORBES 35 7 

ing in safety, and, after a little journey along a sharp 
snow arete and up a steep face of rather doubtful con- 
sistency, a few hundred feet of firm and easy snow 
brought us in triumph to the sharp-pointed summit, 
about 12,100 feet above the sea. 

The wind was boisterous and piercingly cold, and 
we huddled together, a frigid group, on the exposed 
white cap that crowns the apex of the lofty pyramid. 
A heavy cornice overhung the black eastern precipice : 
on the west, the slopes trended sharply to a grand wall 
of cliffs ; and to the north, the pure white face tilts 
downward at a tremendous angle to the glaciers and 
buttresses that overlook the still, dark depths of Glacier 
Lake: The panorama was magnificent. Our moun- 
tain-top, preeminently higher than any of its neighbours, 
has no peer until Columbia's snowy head rises from the 
mighty sweep of its grand ice-fields thirty miles away. 
In the pure atmosphere, mountains far and near stood 
forth with clear-cut outline in all directions to the 
horizon, a full hundred miles distant, and the line of 
the Continental watershed could be traced for scores 
of miles, a vast section of its complicated valley system 
lying map-like at our feet. Deep, wooded ravines inter- 
sect the countless broken ranges, whose bold escarp- 
ments, battered towers and jagged pinnacles present 
a splendid contrast to the enormous areas of ice and 
snow. Such a vision is alone worth far more than all 
the toil and effort expended in gaining the summit of 
this peerless natural observatory. 

It was one o'clock when we arrived, so we only 



358 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

allowed ourselves a little more than half an hour to 
enjoy the landscape and attend to photographic require- 
ments. A little Union Jack was then unfurled and 
planted in the topmost snows, and we made ready to 
depart. Finding that the snow upon the northern face 
was in magnificent condition, thanks to its shaded 
aspect and the icy breeze from that direction, we re- 
solved to return that way, as this plan had the double 
advantage of avoiding objectionable places on the 
south-west arete and of enabling us to cross the moun- 
tain, acquaint ourselves more thoroughly with its char- 
acter and environment, and have the interest of an 
entirely new route exactly opposite in its nature from 
that of the ascent. 

For greater security in case of slips, or footsteps 
giving way, or possibly a minor avalanche, both parties 
roped together during the descent. It proved a long 
and tedious affair. The face was terrifically steep, and 
steps had to be cut with the ice-axe in the hard snow 
or ice almost the whole way down. After a detour to 
avoid the cliffs that form one side of a narrow glacial 
gateway terminating the western ridge of Mt. Forbes, 
a swift glissade down the steep snow between these 
portals to the neve on the southern side was quite a 
luxury ; and then came a steady tramp for forty minutes 
across the snow beneath the heights of the western 
wall, sinking frequently well above our ankles, and 
traversing more than once the hard, rough debris of 
a recent avalanche. Bearing gently upward we struck 
the ridge of our approach at its lowest point, and soon 



MOUNT FORBES 359 

after six unroped at the spot where we had tied up 
nearly twelve hours before. An hour later we straggled 
back to bivouac and spent a second night in our snug 
retreat, a very much warmer location, as it proved, 
than the main camp 2000 feet below. 

Being particularly anxious to get a further observa- 
tion of the watershed and the head-waters of Bush River, 
in order to fill in a small hiatus between Mt. Freshfield 
and Mt. Kaufmann, I suggested a digression to explore 
Bush Pass next day. This was in line with Professor 
Collie's topographical desires, and Mr. Weed's energetic 
interest in all things appertaining to the mountains 
brought him along too. 

After another warm night and a good long rest, it 
was eight o'clock before we were off, leaving to our 
obliging friends our share of blankets, etc., which 
they most kindly carried back to camp. Rounding 
Mt. Forbes's shoulder, we gradually descended towards 
the valley bed, first across grassy and flowery alps, 
where wild geranium was particularly prominent, later 
through forest, till in an hour we found ourselves on 
the banks of the main stream, just below its junction 
with a good-sized tributary. This latter is the outlet 
of the glacier south of Mt. Forbes, which we had 
crossed on our return journey after traversing the 
peak. We had to ford it knee-deep, and then took 
to the shingle flats, sometimes driven into the water for 
a short spell to avoid sundry obstacles, and in half an 
hour of good going arrived at the foot of the pass. 

We rested and cooled off for a few minutes under 



360 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the shelter of an enormous mass of detached rock, its 
base draped with ferns and mosses, and its crest orna- 
mented by a little spruce growing in a tiny crevice high 
above. It lies beside the stream, with a picturesque 
waterfall hard by, and surrounded by a garden of 
flowers clustered in bewildering profusion and blazing 
brilliantly with richest colouring. I gathered thirty-two 
distinct kinds of flowers during the morning's tramp, 
without wandering from the direct line of march. The 
painter's-brush was gorgeous in a variety of shades from 
yellowish white and palest pink to flaming scarlet, the 
" flame-flower " of Thoreau, whose 

" Scarlet tufts 
Are glowing in the green like flakes of fire." 

Mingled with these prevailing sunset hues, masses of 
purple and gold, pure white and vivid blue, combined 
to form a matchless harmony of colour. 

Then upward, over stony slopes and well-packed 
snow to easy rocks, and the broad summit of the pass 
was gained. Professor Collie had long hoped to find 
it practicable for a pack-train, but glacier and belts of 
rock preclude the possibility and, though disappointed 
in the result, we were able to set at rest the question 
of the existence of a feasible route for animals between 
Howse and Thompson Passes, and the matter of timber 
on the Pacific side in both of these cases is a most for- 
midable obstacle to their use. The pass is about 7800 
feet above the sea, situated just north of the angle where 
the Divide leaves the circle of the Freshfield horseshoe 



MOUNT FORBES 361 

and trends towards the western offshoot of Mt. Forbes. 
The valley beyond falls easily to meet the principal 
source of the South Fork of Bush River, a short dis- 
tance below the South Fork Glacier. 

More than an hour was pleasantly and profitably 
spent, and then with frequent glissades a rapid descent 
was made to our " garden rock " in about half an hour ; 
thence by flats and forest, with occasional wading and 
the traverse of a huge mass of avalanche snow, which 
had blocked the valley and still lay unmelted right 
across the river, tunnelled through by the obstructed 
stream, we made our way to camp at 4 p.m. 









CHAPTER XIII 

THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 

The history of the West Branch is singularly 
brief. Indians have used it in ancient times as a 
highway across the Divide, coming up the North 
Fork or by way of Pinto Pass from the Cataract 
Valley east of Mt. Wilson. In 1896 Mr. Wilcox 
climbed a spur of Mt. Saskatchewan, situated in the 
angle where the streams meet, and obtained a view 
over half the valley, concluding, most naturally, that 
it headed in the glaciers at the foot of Mt. Alexandra, 
a dozen miles away. Four years later Mr. C. S. Thomp- 
son traversed the valley almost to its head, and, striking 
westward, ascended to a pass between Mt. Bryce and 
Watchman Peak, leading over to a source of Bush 
River. This has been named Thompson Pass. 

No ascents were made, and, as the trip was very 
brief, — little more than a dash to the pass and back, — 
numerous details still remained uncertain or unknown, 
whilst all the peaks were absolutely new. The regions 
both to the north and to the south, seen from their 
outer edges by Messrs. Collie, Wilcox and Habel, 
during various exploratory expeditions, were practically 
untrodden. The estimates of enormous altitudes and 

362 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 363 

sundry questions of identification, which remained un- 
solved, assured a most interesting geographical prob- 
lem ; plenty of grand scenery and the probability of 
first-class climbing completed a list of inducements 
to investigate that section which would appeal to any 
mountaineer. 

The West Branch divides the great block of moun- 
tains lying between the head-waters of the Saskatchewan, 
Blaeberry, Bush and Athabaska rivers into two almost 
exactly equal parts, and strikes into its very heart. 
Mt. Lyell, occupying the centre of the mountain mass, 
seemed the key peak from which to get a compre- 
hensive survey of the entire system ; Mt. Columbia, 
the -monarch of the northern section, I hoped to be 
able to reach from the valley head ; several glacier 
passes and prominent peaks on the Divide appeared 
to offer opportunities for a thorough acquaintance with 
the whole line of the watershed, and, supplemented by 
our projected expeditions to Glacier Lake and the 
Forbes and Freshfield district, promised to complete the 
chain of evidence which was wanted to map the range 
in its entirety. 

This ample programme I was fortunately able to 
carry out successfully. During the trip ten new 
peaks over 10,000 feet were conquered, almost all of 
them on the Divide, and four new passes were inves- 
tigated : the chief questions of identification were set 
at rest, the position of Mt. Lyell rectified, numerous 
unknown valleys brought to light, and the matter of 
altitudes fairly determined. This was the only dis- 






364 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

appointment of the summer, as from 1000 to 1500 feet 
had to be deducted from the earlier estimates in the 
case of almost all the higher mountains, the loftiest 
of which is probably no more than about 12,500 feet, 
instead of approximating 14,000. Nevertheless they 
are splendid peaks, and as the valleys are almost 
uniformly low, especially upon the western side, an 
abrupt rise of 8000 feet or more is not uncommon. 
The structure is, as usual, mainly limestone, extremely 
friable and wearing into many striking forms. 

Our first afternoon was spent in a training climb 
to the spur of Mt. Saskatchewan, whence Mr. Wilcox 
had obtained the first glimpse of the valley and its 
surroundings. The early clouds had lifted and the 
outlook was hopeful enough to make the prospect of 
securing some more valuable results than mere exercise 
quite encouraging. While Kaufmann and I started up- 
ward, the others occupied themselves with the no light 
task of cutting a trail for service on the morrow. Our 
route lay through the woods and we soon struck a 
well-marked game-trail, which we followed to the 
timber-line, and advanced along the rocky ridge of 
the outlying spur as far as Mr. Wilcox's cairn, about 
8400 feet above the sea. 

The view was most interesting and inspiring — 
a foretaste of the good things in store for us. The 
billowy clouds that seemed reluctant to leave the 
loftier summits eventually lifted, and revealed one by 
one the peaks that we had come to pit our strength 
and skill against, besides a host of minor satellites. 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 



365 



In the forefront was Mt. Saskatchewan, presenting to 
us a face absolutely precipitous, great horizontal belts of 
limestone stretching from end to end in splendid cliffs 
and its aretes and outlying northern spur broken by 
pinnacles and needles of shattered rock, of quaint, fan- 
tastic appearance, some of them two or three hundred 




MT. SASKATCHEWAN 



feet at least in height. Across the deep valley im- 
pressive walls of the prevailing horizontal strata, 
crowned with an icy mass of level glacier of immense 
thickness, curved like a titanic amphitheatre round 
a huge basin filled with pure white neve, from which 
a crystal stream cascaded to the wooded slopes below. 
At our feet the tortuous river meandered through 



2,66 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the stony flats by a variety of channels, large and 
small, and we could trace it for several miles as far as 
a right-angled bend, where three grand glaciers unite 
at the base of a fine range of peaks ; farther to the 
right the three sharp points of Mt. Bryce loomed dark 
beneath the luminous masses of lifting clouds, and 
then the shadowed peak of Mt. Saskatchewan cut off 
the distant view. 

As Mt. Lyell was regarded as the pivot point for 
topographical research, its whereabouts and character 
were naturally the first questions that we sought to 
solve. Previous suspicions concerning the correctness 
of Mr. Thompson's surmise as to its identity, which had 
arisen in my mind from a study of his and Dr. 
Hector's narratives and maps, gave place to serious 
perplexity when confronted by the physical conditions 
as they appeared in actual fact. It was impossible to 
make the Mt. Lyell of the one coincide with the Mt. 
Lyell of the other. Dr. Hector, who named the peak, 1 
saw it from a low elevation to the south-east ; Mr. 
Thompson viewed the range only from the depths of 

1 A study of Dr. Hector's map and published notes with reference to the 
naming of Mt. Lyell by him in 1858, and observations made in the neighbour- 
hood from all points of the compass, lead me to the conclusion that the peak 
intended by the great pioneer explorer is undoubtedly the triple mountain at 
the head of the grand ice-field which sweeps down to Glacier Lake. Follow- 
ing Dr. Hector's footsteps, notes in hand, this deduction appears inevitable, 
but, strange to say, in the position assigned to Mt. Lyell on his map, some dis- 
tance to the east of the accepted mountain of that name and almost exactly 
north of Mt. Forbes, rises a considerable peak, which stood out very prom- 
inently in the view from that summit and from other lofty altitudes, though 
it is doubtful whether it is visible from any of the lower elevations visited by 
Dr. Hector. 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 367 

the valley lying to the north, and very naturally 
selected the most prominent peak in sight as the one 
to identify with the most prominent as seen from the 
other side. Hence the trouble. From our vantage 
point the peak that has for some years been desig- 
nated as Mt. Lyell by all explorers from the south 
was clearly recognized, standing a few miles west of 
Mr. Thompson's peak, from which it is separated by 
a gabled mountain with considerable gaps on either 
side. The peak, thus shorn of its imputed name, has 
been called Mt. Alexandra ; it stands conspicuously 
above the triple-headed glacier already mentioned and 
dominates the valley as one approaches the great bend. 
One more objective mountain was thus added to our 
original programme. 

We descended into the valley of the North Fork, 
returning to camp drenched by the shower-baths con- 
ferred upon us by the rain-soaked brush. Next morn- 
ing we started by the newly cut trail through the 
woods that edge the swamps, w T hich cover the entire 
valley floor for some little distance above the mouth 
of the stream. Then for a time we continued along a 
series of strange, grass-covered causeways that provide a 
solid road between the river and the swamps twenty 
feet or more in width ; next came long stretches of 
shingle flats, varied- by numerous fordings of the 
stream, whole or in part, until a convenient camping- 
place was found about a mile below the junction of 
the waters from the triple glacier and the main 
stream. The view of the dominating Mt. Alexandra, 



3 68 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

flanked by forest slopes and bare escarpments, with its 
central ice-fall shining in brilliant contrast to the belt 
of trees into whose depths it plunged, was most entranc- 
ing all the way along, gaining in beauty and gran- 
deur as we approached its base. 




MT. ALEXANDRA 



The afternoon's programme was a repetition of the 
previous one. A long section of timber lay ahead, 
and both Jim and Fred went off to make a trail. 
Christian and I, meanwhile, climbed to the summit of 
a barren ridge in the angle of the valley about 9000 feet 
high, to get a nearer view of the big peaks, conclusive 
evidence as to the Lyell problem, and a bird's-eye view 
of the upper portion of the valley, which might help us 
in our attempt to reach the head in a single day, horses 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 3 6 9 

never having been taken farther up, at any rate within 
the knowledge of any white man. Clouds were again 
prevalent in certain quarters, but we got splendid visions 
of Mt. Forbes's pure, sharp pyramid, the triple-headed 
mass of Mt. Lyell, Mt. Bryce's narrow, three-pointed 
ridge and the several intervening peaks. Mt. Columbia, 
the giant of the region, reputed to be 14,000 feet above 
the sea, and on that account the most interesting sum- 
mit of them all to reach, remained persistently envel- 
oped till nearly sunset, when, just as we were turning 
homeward, the white mists rolled away and the great 
dome appeared in all the golden radiance of the evening 

glow. 

" Round its breast the rolling clouds are spread ; 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head." 

It was a most dramatic first appearance, and imme- 
diately laid us under its most potent spell and determined 
us to take the very earliest opportunity of attempting the 
ascent of its grand slopes. 

The good work done by our two axemen enabled us 
to traverse the thick forest with ease, and in two hours 
we emerged upon the banks of the river again, having 
cut off a very lengthy corner, and, right in front, gleamed 
the snowy summit of Mt. Columbia, dazzlingly bright 
against an azure sky that fairly rivalled Italy for richness 
and depth of colouring. 

It was a trying march thenceforward. The large 
boulders on the flats were terribly hard on the horses ; 
the river, swirling along, icy cold and very turbulent, 
made fording neither easy nor agreeable; the banks 



370 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

narrowed frequently and drove us to the woods, through 
which our leader piloted us skilfully, albeit a good deal 
of heavy axe-work was demanded from both packers 
before we finally descended to a broad expanse of rough 
stones and shingle, where the river broke tumultuously 
from a deep and rugged canyon, and it was evident that 
there was no use in trying to take our camping-outfit 
any farther that day. So we pitched our tents just within 
the border of the trees, in a sheltered, sunny spot, close 
to a splendid waterfall, which, like a smaller one a few 
yards distant, sprang from a subterranean channel. 

The new camp was inaugurated by a most exciting 
episode. The packs had just been unloaded and their 
contents were lying scattered all around ; Kaufmann and 
I were busy putting up one of the tents, and Fred was 
engaged in preparing a well-earned dinner, when sud- 
denly a crackling sound was heard and I looked up to 
see the lowest branch of a young balsam fir close to the 
fire ablaze. In an instant a sheet of flame swept to the 
topmost bough with a rushing hiss and- crackle like 
a monster rocket, and the entire tree became a blazing 
pillar of fire. Another and another caught, the lurid 
flames shot up like fireworks, and thousands of burning 
spines fell all around in showers. A general rush was 
made to rescue our belongings from the circle of fiery 
rain, whilst the prospect of a raging forest fire, devastat- 
ing this beautiful virgin valley, was imminent. Fortu- 
nately the breeze, whose variable eddies blew first this 
way and then that in our secluded corner, veered just 
at this crisis and set steadily towards the boulder-covered 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 371 

flat. The flames died down, and the trees, dry as tinder, 
that circled the three other sides, were spared. Water 
was close at hand, and soon the smouldering blankets, 
tents, pack-mantles, garments and saddlery were safe 
from further destruction, although riddled with holes 
from the fall of blazing sparks and looking rather dilapi- 
dated during the remainder of the trip. 

All this made dinner rather late, and it was three 
o'clock before Christian, Jim and I moved on to make 
a reconnaissance of Mt. Columbia and ascertain if it 
were possible or advisable to make a higher camp. Our 
present elevation was almost exactly 6000 feet and the 
glacier snout about 500 feet higher. Between the two a 
spell .of trackless forest intervened. Going very fast 
in half an hour the trees were left behind and we crossed 
a bare, rocky slope, composed chiefly of terraced ledges, 
often strewn with stones, descending abruptly to the 
river-bed. In front is the steep glacier-tongue, which 
forms the source of the West Branch, and is an outlying 
portion of the great Columbia ice-field. We took to the 
ice at once and climbed the rather steep, dry glacier 
until snow was reached, when we roped up and continued 
to ascend as far as the flattened summit of the neve, some 
8200 feet above the sea. Here we crossed the Divide, 
which makes a wide circuit from the eastern spurs of Mt. 
Bryce, on our left, to the centre of the immense Columbia 
snow-field, stretching for miles in a northerly direction 
and then turning sharply westward to Mt. Columbia and 
the peaks beyond. From a better view-point, a few hun- 
dred yards down the western slope, we were well pleased 



372 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

to note that nothing but distance and soft snow seemed 
likely to prevent a successful ascent of the big mountain. 
The expanse of ice-field was enormous, though only a 
section of it was visible from where we stood. Between 
us and the peak lay a deep and narrow valley, into the 
upper part of which three glaciers poured their broken 
masses : one from our neve ; one opposite, descending 
from the steeps of Mt. Columbia ; and the central, passing 
through a narrow rocky gateway far below the lofty level 
of the sweeping expanse of ice, which forms the vast 
reservoir from which the three tongues issue : this snow- 
field, circling round the valley head, extends for many 
miles towards the north and east, where numerous other 
tongues descend to form the sources of various branches 
of the Saskatchewan and Athabaska Rivers. The stream 
below us flowed beneath the stupendous walls of Mt. 
Bryce, which rose precipitously to a narrow, corniced 
crest. In consequence of this deep valley and its encir- 
cling glaciers, a long detour was obviously necessary to 
reach the far-off base of the peak, and our reconnaissance 
was invaluable in enabling us to plan a somewhat shorter 
route than we should otherwise have taken. The height 
of Mt. Columbia did not seem to approach the former 
estimates, and the distance more than the altitude evoked 
forebodings of difficulty in gaining the coveted goal. 
Only a few minutes could be spared to take in these 
salient features of the scene, and then we turned and 
hurried back to camp at racing speed to make our prepa- 
rations for a very early start next day. 

We were now at the southern extremity of that 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 373 

monster ice- world discovered by Professor Collie and 
Mr. Woolley on the occasion of their eventful ascent 
of Mt. Athabaska, on the eastern verge. Such a dis- 
covery cannot be described in other words than those 
of the discoverer. 1 " The view that lay before us in 
the evening light was one that does not often fall to 
the lot of modern mountaineers. A new world was 
spread at our feet; to the westward stretched a vast 
ice-field probably never before seen by human eye, and 
surrounded by entirely unknown, unnamed, and un- 
climbed peaks. From its vast expanse of snows the 
Saskatchewan Glacier takes its rise, and it also supplies 
the head-waters of the Athabaska; while far away to 
the west, bending over in those unknown valleys glowing 
with the evening light, the level snows stretched, to 
finally melt and flow down more than one channel into 
the Columbia River, and thence to the Pacific Ocean. 
Beyond the Saskatchewan Glacier to the south-east, a 
high peak (which we have named Mt. Saskatchewan) 
lay between this glacier and the west branch of the 
North Fork, flat-topped and covered with snow, on its 
eastern face a precipitous wall of rock. Mt. Lyell 
and Mt. Forbes could be seen far off in the haze. 
But it was towards the west and north-west that the 
chief interest lay. From this great snow-field rose 
solemnly, like 'lonely sea-stacks in mid-ocean,' two 
magnificent peaks, which we imagined to be 13,000 or 
14,000 feet high, keeping guard over those unknown 
western fields of ice. One of these, which reminded us 

1 " Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 107. 



374 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

of the Finsteraarhorn, we have ventured to name after 
the Right Honourable James Bryce, the then President 
of the Alpine Club. A little to the north of this peak, 
and directly to the west of Peak Athabaska, rose prob- 
ably the highest summit in this region of the Rocky 
Mountains. Chisel-shaped at the head, covered with 
glaciers and snow, it also stood alone, and I at once 
recognised the great peak I was in search of ; moreover, 
a short distance to the north-east of this mountain, an- 
other, almost as high, also flat-topped, but ringed round 
with sheer precipices, reared its head into the sky above 
all its fellows. At once I concluded that these might 
be the two lost mountains, Brown and Hooker." 

This hope proved vain (see p. 429), and the peaks were 
subsequently christened Mt. Columbia and Mt. Alberta. 
The same climbers, accompanied by Mr. Stutfield, were, 
a few days later, the first to set foot on this enormous 
ice-field. In the hope of climbing Mt. Columbia, they 
bivouacked as far up the right bank of the Athabaska 
Glacier as possible and were up at 1.30, starting by 
lantern-light. " Dawn broke at length in a dark and 
lowering sky. 1 The glacier was easy enough to begin 
with, but gradually the crevasses, growing wider and more 
numerous, kept us dodging about backwards and forwards 
without making much progress, until we almost fancied 
we were threading the ice-maze of the Col du Geant. 
The Athabaska Glacier descends from the upper snow- 
fields in three successive ice-falls, the highest one being 
very much crevassed. Through the mazes of this upper 

1 "Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 117. 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 375 

ice-fall we slowly made our way, zigzagging between the 
seracs, or ice-pinnacles, and innumerable crevasses. The 
latter were unsurpassably fine. Huge chasms of im- 
mense depth yawned beneath us on every side, branch- 
ing out below into mysterious caverns and long winding 
grottoes, their sides tinged with that strangely beautiful 
glacial blue, and festooned with enormous icicles. 

" We had been going nearly five hours when we 
emerged on to the upper glacier, and the wonders of 
that vast region of snow and ice were unfolded to our 
view. . . . We stood on the edge of an immense ice- 
field, bigger than the biggest in Switzerland — that is 
to say, than the Evvige Schneefeld and the Aletsch 
Glacier combined — which stretched mile upon mile 
before us like a rolling snow-covered prairie. . . . The 
weather was very sultry, and thunder was in the air ; 
for several hours we tramped steadily on over the almost 
level ice-field, but Mt. Columbia proved to be much fur- 
ther off than it looked. The ascent, we saw, would be 
quite easy — merely a long snow-grind — but we were 
still a long way even from its base. The weather was 
very threatening — it was now past noon, and we had al- 
ready been going nine hours — so we decided to give 
it up. . . . 

" To the eastward of where we stood, and almost 
on our way home, rose a great white dome, and we 
determined to ascend it. After a hot and very tir- 
ing climb through snow that broke under our feet at 
every step, we finally reached the summit at 3.15 p.m. 
We have named this peak The Dome (11,650 feet). . . . 



376 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The Dome is not a very striking mountain in itself, 
but hydrographically regarded it is of great interest. 
Viewed in this light it is the apex, as it were, of the 
Rocky Mountain Range, for the meltings of its snows 
descend into three great river-systems, flowing into three 
different oceans — to the Columbia and thence to the 
Pacific; to Hudson's Bay via the Saskatchewan; and 
by the Athabaska to the Arctic Ocean." 

Mindful of the fate of this expedition we were up at 
one o'clock, in anticipation of a snow-tramp so lengthy 
as possibly to prove too much for us, although we had 
the immense advantage of having no obstacles to com- 
pare with the intricate ice-fall which so delayed their 
progress. The moment it was light enough to thread 
our way amongst the trees and forest tangle (2.20 a.m., 
July 19th) we set out. So long a snow-tramp, with the 
certainty of softness and consequently extremely heavy 
going, was sufficient, without any extra troubles, to 
make success at the first essay very problematical, and 
a hot night and troubled sky at dawn did not tend to 
reassure our minds. In fifty minutes we were enjoying 
the cooler atmosphere of the glacier after the closeness 
and toil of the rough forest ascent. For a short time 
we diverged to some grassy terraces that lined the 
glacier on our right, but soon returned to the snow- 
covered ice and made steady progress over its hard 
surface until we found ourselves trapped in a chaos of 
huge crevasses, wide chasms, and large, crater-like de- 
pressions seamed with smaller fissures. So at five we 
roped. We had by this time attained an altitude of 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 377 

about 8000 feet and the snow remained firm and 
good ; but covered crevasses were numerous and some 
bridges we were forced to cross called for the utmost 
care, and were fragile enough even at this early hour to 
make us wish for a better way of escape from the maze 
in which we were entangled. Kaufmann's skill was, as 
always, equal to every emergency, and we soon crossed 
the bad bit in the hollow of the glacier and commenced 
to traverse the less broken surface of the nearer of the 
two high snowy ridges that tower above the ice-fall of 
the central tongue. 

From its summit the outlook was fascinating in the 
extreme, though Mt. Columbia rose before us apparently 
as far away as ever. We were now almost at the centre 
of the main plateau of neve, the snow-fields sloping 
gently downward in almost all directions from our 
elevation of about 10,000 feet. Towards the north, 
above a sharp depression and beyond a magnificent 
cirque of rocks and glacier, which separates them from 
Mt. Columbia, were the Twins, the loftier pure white 
and its brother darkly impressive ; then the immense 
area of snow-field sweeps upward to Mt. Douglas and 
the Dome on the one side and dips to the green valleys 
of the West Branch and the Bush River on the other. 
Between these two rose the imposing walls of Mt. Bryce, 
whose appearance is particularly striking from the north, 
whilst Mts. Athabaska and Saskatchewan stood guard 
over the long, icy avenue to the head-waters of the North 
Fork of the Saskatchewan. 

Much to our relief we noticed that, by swinging 



378 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

round considerably on the return journey, we could keep 
above the broken section lately crossed, and avoid by a 
slight increase of distance its objectionable features ; for 
bridges, delicate at 6 a.m., are apt to be impassable after 
a day of July sun. Just beyond the ridge, at 7.20, we 
made a fifty minutes' halt for breakfast, — well satisfied 
with our progress so far, but somewhat appalled at the 
way in which our peak appeared to retrograde as we 
approached, and at the growing softness of the snow. 
Per contra, the clouds that in the early morning over- 
cast the sky had gradually risen, and after massing 
rather heavily were dissipating rapidly, and a clear 
panorama was assured. 

Resuming our long snow-tramp, we circled round 
the head of the central western glacier and ascended the 
farther ridge in ever deepening snow. We were now 
nearer Mt. Columbia than the point where Professor 
Collie's party had been obliged to turn back, and being 
some hours ahead of their time were fairly confident 
that we should get there, though thus early equally 
assured of an abnormally lengthy and laborious grind 
and a probable arrival at our camp well after dark. The 
going for the next three hours was most monotonous ; 
two or three great undulations in the mighty sea of neve 
had to be traversed, and we sank deeper and deeper as 
the hot sun increased in power. At last, however, the 
final billow was surmounted, the base of the mountain 
proper was attained, and the steep slopes of the last 
2000 feet were nigh at hand. This gradual rising of the 
outlying glaciers to the main level of the enormous 




3 8o 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 381 

ice-field (about 10,000 feet), and thence still gradually 
to within 2000 feet of the actual summit, detracts con- 
siderably from the real height and grandeur of the 
mountain ; and from a scenic point of view it is a great 
mistake to approach Mt. Columbia from the eastern side. 
The finest aspect is unquestionably from the depths of 
the low valley of the West Fork of the Athabaska 
River, whence its great altitude and imposing form are 
seen to the best advantage. The summit there is 
8000 feet above the river flat, but its appearance is so 
totally unlike the views that had been obtained pre- 
viously from other points of the compass, that, when 
Mr. Habel observed and photographed his mighty 
" Gamma " from the north, it was hardly deemed possi- 
ble to establish its identity without further evidence. 
This it was our endeavour to supply. 

Another brief halt was made at 11.30 just below the 
bergschrund, and our food supplies and all the impedi- 
menta we could do without were left there to await our 
return. The open portion of the schrund was easily 
circumvented at this season, scarcely any of the winter 
snow having yet disappeared, and we were soon engaged 
in pounding up a ladder-like arete of soft snow on a hard, 
slippery substratum, very likely under the scorching sun 
to avalanche. It was breathless work. We were both 
terribly out of condition, it being the first climb of the 
season, and the long, toilsome trudge, under our packs, 
on a hot summer day, told on our unaccustomed limbs 
and lungs. Some 1200 feet up, the gradient became 
easier and we moved with less fatigue, until a very sheer 



382 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and icy escarpment confronted us at the junction of the 
south-east and south-west ridges. This brought the axe 
into play ; but in a few minutes the crest was gained, 
and we shook hands in mutual congratulation on the 
summit of Mt. Columbia. 

What the feelings of the Governor-General may be 
on his appointment I am not prepared to state, but 
I know we felt a thrill of exultation when we occupied 
(though for only one short hour) the highest position in 
the Dominion of Canada ! As we anticipated, the pre- 
vious estimates of altitude were far astray, and I believe 
that 12,500 feet will prove to be not very far from the 
true figure. Nevertheless, we appeared to stand well 
above all the neighbouring mountains, of which the 
White Twin seemed to be the loftiest, and the next in 
altitude probably is Mt. Alberta. 1 

The panorama was simply marvellous. The vast 
extent of these mountain-top views is extremely striking, 
especially in such untrodden regions as the Canadian 
Rockies freely offer. The charm of the unknown is 
mingled with the pleasure of recognition. The climber 

1 My estimate of height was made by observations from two aneroids, 
one a Watkin mountain barometer, checked for weather variations by records 
kept throughout the day in camp, about twelve miles distant, and by the Gov- 
ernment meteorologist at Banff, one hundred miles away. The elevation of 
the camp was estimated by a long series of dead reckonings by aneroid, hence 
the mean of 12,661 feet, obtained from the barometers, has been roughly 
arrived at, and I have preferred to give a round figure of 12,500. In a note 
of trigonometrical estimates of some of the highest peaks in the Rockies, 
made by Mr. A. O. Wheeler, of the Dominion Land Survey, as the result of 
azimuths taken from various stations occupied by him on the summits of 
peaks in the Selkirks, the altitude of Mt. Columbia is given as 12,740 feet, 
the mean of four observations with a range of 261 feet. 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 383 

knows not — no one living knows — what awaits him 
on the summit of a peak or pass. Bewildering hosts of 
splendid mountains, many unviewed by any one before ; 
new valleys with their glaciers and foaming torrents, 
hitherto undreamt of tributaries of familiar rivers ; the 
now revealed line of the erratic watershed, laid down by 
guesswork in the past, — these are some of the more fas- 
cinating revelations of the hour. And equally enjoyable, 
amid this world of the unknown, is the tracing of the 
journey's course over yonder pass and along those now 
familiar valleys to the spot far below where the white 
tents convey to you a fancied congratulation and wel- 
come back again. Pleasant, too, is the recognition of 
old friends among the near or distant summits, from 
whence the present vantage ground was perhaps 
observed and reconnoitred in the hope of the closer 
acquaintance that has now been consummated. They 
are friends indeed, and happy is the man who has many 
such. But, alas, one cannot always linger in the com- 
pany even of friends, and the sublime landscape, the 
nerve-restoring air, the quiet of the far-uplifted solitudes, 
must be reluctantly forsaken till a further opportunity 
arises of renewing our acquaintance, simultaneously 
with the addition of yet another intimate to the growing 
circle. 

Thirty miles to the south-east Mt. Forbes (as yet 
unconquered) towered high above everything in that 
direction, and alone challenged comparison with our 
elevation. But at twice that distance to the north-west 
Mt. Robson showed up grandly and is perhaps the one 



384 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

mountain in the Canadian Rockies that exceeds 13,000 
feet. 

It was interesting and satisfactory to ascertain beyond 
a doubt that Mr. Habel's " Gamma," despite its differ- 
ence in form and character from Professor Collie's 
Mt. Columbia, was nevertheless the identical mountain, 
and much of Mr. Habel's description of the western 
Athabaska and its vicinity was followed step by step as 
we looked down upon the valleys and the minor heights 
trodden by him in 1901. 

We were sixty miles north of any summit either 
of us had previously ascended, which lent enormous 
additional interest to a panorama, which even if familiar 
in every detail would be quite entrancing. But, while 
most of it was entirely new to the eye, the excellent 
and graphic descriptions and pictures of Messrs. Wil- 
cox, Collie and Habel made almost all the chief features 
of the landscape recognizable at the first glance. Some 
old friends in the distant south, fully eighty miles away, 
Mts. Temple, Goodsir, Hungabee, Dawson and Sir Don- 
ald, and more recent acquaintances of the past fortnight, 
gave one great pleasure to recognize amongst the myri- 
ads of peaks of every shape and size. But the crowning 
feature of the panorama was the survey of the immense 
area of the Columbia ice-field, possibly the largest known 
outside the arctic regions and their fringe. It covers 
about two hundred square miles, being upwards of thirty 
miles in length from the head of the neve to the tongue 
of the Saskatchewan Glacier, protrudes its glacial ramifi- 
cations to every point of the compass, and occupies the 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 385 

geographical centre of the water system of a quarter of 
the Continent of North America. 

I planted the Union Jack upon the broad, white 
platform that crowns the summit, the highest point in 
Canada from which the British flag has ever floated, 
and set to work with camera, plane-table, sextant and 
clinometer, until the hour warned us that we must depart. 
So, at 3.20, we bade a reluctant farewell to the grand 
peak and its inspiring view, and commenced to retrace 
our steps. The descent was more agreeable than the 
tedious ascent, and we plunged gayly down the steep, 
soft slopes, until in half an hour we stopped again for 
some refreshment at the point where we had left our 
things. Twenty minutes later we embarked on the 
long journey over the interminable expanse of weary 
snow. Soon we were both thoroughly tired out. At 
every step we sank in well above the ankles and 
usually to the knees, and, as we tramped monoto- 
nously onward, a sort of mirage formed upon the 
undulating surface of white snow. Towards even- 
ing the fierce heat abated, and the conditions of 
both air and snow improved as we swung round the 
wide detour above the lower neve. The glow of sunset 
flooded peak and glacier with a golden radiance, 
merging here and there into the most delicate tints 
of rosy pink and culminating in a blaze of richest 
crimson glory. 

Long before we reached the limit of the snows the sun 
had disappeared, but a full moon gave ample light until 
dark belts of cloud came up and partially or entirely 



386 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

obscured its soft, clear rays. At nine o'clock we reached 
the rocky terraces and could dispense with the rope 
that had bound us together for sixteen hours ; and our 
parched throats rejoiced in an ample drink of pure, cold 
water. 

An hour's traverse of the dry glacier in the half 
light and then we entered on the worst part of all the 
day's proceedings. To travel through a forest full of 
undergrowth and strewn with trunks of fallen trees is 
no easy task in broad daylight, but at night, without a 
moon, with limbs so tired that they would scarcely obey 
the orders of the will, it was as tough a job as ever fell 
to our lot to undertake. Stumbling over stumps and 
stones, tumbling into holes and gullies, swinging across 
fallen logs, and fighting through the tangled brush, we 
dragged our weary way for two awful hours. And then 
we missed the camp and wound up with a chilly fording 
of the icy torrent, nearly waist-deep, before the welcome 
tents appeared in sight, and, shortly after midnight, all 
our toils were ended. A grand hot supper, prepared 
in a magically short space of time by our awakened chef, 
set us speedily to rights, and the joy of bed after our 
twenty-two hour expedition is quite beyond the powers 
of any pen to tell. 

Sunday was a day of rest, well earned and thoroughly 
appreciated; and the following day we were fit for 
almost anything and went up to Thompson Pass to 
reconnoitre Mt. Bryce and the neighbourhood gener- 
ally. The snow conditions of Mt. Bryce, combined with 
threatening weather, caused us to postpone our med- 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 387 

itated attack upon that peak, and, instead, we moved 
our camp down to the bend, where we had such com- 
fortable quarters that we named it " Camp Content." 

Clouds hung about the peaks all the following day 
and climbing was useless ; so Christian and I spent our 
time exploring the triple glacier, which is a splendid 
one, and for which the name " Trident Glacier " is sug- 
gested. 1 About a mile below the ice-tongue the glacial 
stream unites with the main waters of the West Branch 
as they emerge from a magnificent canyon, rivalling the 
famous Gorge of Pfaffers. The lower portion of the 
glacier is remarkable for the contrast between its eastern 
and western halves. The former, coming from a narrow 
gap between Mt. Lyell and the adjacent Gable Peak, 
descends in a fine ice-fall to join the sweep of the com- 
bined masses of the other two. It is intensely pure and 
free from debris, and carries its characteristics to the 
end. A lofty ridge of ice, covered with debris, forms 
the dividing line between it and the western half, seem- 
ing to have been forced up into a distinct crest by the 
pressure of the rival forces. The western part is strewn 
from end to end with stones both large and small, and 
has its origin at the head of a lofty glacial pass 2 in the 
Mt. Bryce direction, and, after a very steep ice-fall, flows 
evenly along the base of the ridge that culminates 
in Mt. Alexandra, the ice almost completely hidden by 
the accumulation of rubbish. Just as it reaches the 

1 Unless the glacier should receive the same name as that given to the 
West Branch Valley — perhaps the most suitable solution — or that of Alex- 
andra from the dominating peak. 

2 The same suggestion is made as to the name of the pass. 



388 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

steep and broken central glacier it swings round at 
right angles, and together they descend to meet their 
confrere from the east. We clambered also up the spur 
that separates the western glacier from the upper valley 
of the West Branch, .and from its angle obtained fine 
views of the glaciers and the encircling peaks, with Mt. 
Columbia appearing beyond the valley head. A route 
up Mt. Lyell, which faced us to the east, was also pro- 
spected, and plans were laid to try that mountain on the 
morrow. 

On the 24th an early start was made, and its impor- 
tant geographical position caused heavy packs to be in 
order. A 5 x 7 camera with eighteen plates, theodolite, 
plane-table, aneroids, and other paraphernalia, besides 
necessary extra garments and provisions, composed two 
weighty loads for a climb of 7000 feet. Our camp being 
for pasture's sake on the wrong side of the river, we had 
to ford the stream on horseback, and Jim went off at 
half-past one to hunt the ponies in the dark. By three 
o'clock we had crossed and were making our way 
through woods to the flats beyond. On reaching the 
glacier, we kept along its right bank till we came to 
the eastern fall, and then faced the steep cliff upon 
our left, which looked extremely nasty in places, but 
promised greater rapidity than dodging crevasses and 
seracs and cutting up the ice-fall. 

Our distended ruck-sacks hampered us considerably, 
and in one particular chimney caused each of us in turn 
to stick so fast that it was only with extreme difficulty 
that we could extricate ourselves. At the top of the 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 389 

cliff a fight through dense dwarf spruces resulted in our 
gaining the high lateral moraine close to the head of 
the ice-fall. Proceeding along its crest a flatter expanse 
of glacier opened out and gave us a spell of easier going, 
and we roped up just below the bergschrund at Mt. 
Lyell's base. As we threaded our way amongst the 
crevasses here, an icy wind struck us and gave the first 
unpleasant intimation that the top would be a somewhat 
arctic locality, although a clear sky and hot sun reigned 
above. Breakfast was taken among the rocks a little 
later, and at 8.30 we assailed the steep slopes of rock 
and snow, where the axe had to be freely used, till we 
came to a deep hollow lying sheltered between the cen- 
tral .peak and the spurs from the eastern and western 
summits. 

Here we were roasted by the scorching heat of the 
sun and snow-glare as we plunged through knee-deep 
snow, winding hither and thither to avoid the numerous 
crevasses. Ascending directly between the central and 
western peaks the surface grew harder, and, in an icy 
gale that whirled the sharp, frozen particles of snow in 
a thick cloud across our path, we gained the col, a lofty 
one nearly 11,500 feet up, and looked down upon a long 
and easy slope of neve, stretching away before us in 
unbroken purity almost to the head of Glacier Lake, 
with the grand, regal pyramid of Mt. Forbes piercing 
the heavens above. Then in a chilling hurricane, 
amidst the driving turmoil of the snow, we hastened 
up the ridge towards the central peak, which seemed — 
as it proved later by a few feet — to be the highest of 
the three. 



39Q IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

It was, as I had long anticipated, the key peak of 
this great mountain group, seventy miles by twenty-five, 
comprised within the limits of the upper waters of the 
Athabaska, Bush, Blaeberry and Saskatchewan rivers. 
Situated almost in the centre of this section, and little 
short of 12,000 feet in altitude, it forms a natural observa- 
tory from which a marvellous outlook is obtained. The 
eye sweeps round to the far horizon in a circle one 
hundred and fifty to two hundred miles in diameter, and 
is caught here and there as it wanders over the bewilder- 
ing sea of mountains, glaciers and valleys, by the more 
prominent summits of the distant Selkirks or the far- 
reaching Rockies. But, first in importance, almost 
exactly at the opposite poles of vision, the two greatest 
and grandest of them all command our admiration and 
attention: Mt. Forbes, a snow-white cone, alone in its 
supremacy, towering above its fellows in the south ; and 
Mt. Columbia, likewise pure and preeminent, but sur- 
rounded by an entourage of peaks of marked distinction, 
— the Twins, Alberta, Athabaska, Bryce and others, — 
that rise above or almost to the height of 12,000 feet. 
Although Mt. Robson, still farther northward, may sur- 
pass in altitude any of these summits, yet the general 
system there is far less lofty and indubitably of far less 
geographical distinction than this region, which contains 
the greatest aggregate of mighty peaks and sweeping 
ice-fields in the Canadian Rockies, yet, strange to say, 
remains without a special name. 

An interesting feature was the discovery of the 
extent of one of the western tributaries of the North 



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THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 393 

Fork, hitherto mapped as short and of very minor rank. 
It now appeared as a deep enshadowed trough, jewelled 
with a host of little lakes, and fed by a considerable 
glacier which descends apparently from Mt. Lyell's east- 
ern peak, between two splendid walls of rock that sever 
it from the great Lyell Glacier on the south and the 
West Branch Valley on the other side. This valley has 
been named the " Valley of Lakes." 

In spite of the keen and violent wind and a tempe- 
rature twenty degrees below the freezing-point, it was 
necessary to try to vindicate the bringing of the big 
camera and transit to the top. The snow was soft, and 
the tripod had to be sunk almost to the head to get 
any pretence of steadiness. Even then so great was 
the vibration that only a rapid exposure could be made, 
and when it came to the turn of the theodolite, the acme 
of tribulation was experienced. Prone upon the snow, 
with fingers numbed, I endeavoured time after time to 
fix the quivering telescope upon the apex of the desired 
mountain and turn the ice-cold screws to a true adjust- 
ment ; but with all one's trying the wind and cold had 
certainly the upper hand, and I should be very loath to 
stake my reputation for accuracy on the results obtained 
upon the summit of Mt. Lyell. For three mortal hours 
these trials of an amateur attempt at scientific work 
were thus prolonged, considerably aggravated by the 
knowledge that Christian had dug himself a cozy shelter 
in the snow at the southern edge, and was comfortably 
reposing in his sunny niche, where not a breath of wind 
disturbed his peace. 



394 



IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



At last my chilly task was over, and at 2.15 we raced 
down the hard slopes, trudged more carefully and labo- 
riously across the crevassed hollow, crept cautiously 
down the steps which had to be cut in the steeps 
below, and, after a much-needed lunch, a quick glissade 
landed us on the level glacier. Traversing the moraine, 
we descended the steep cliff by a varied route, which 
turned out more difficult than the way we were avoiding, 
and finally arrived in sight of camp at half-past seven, as 
thoroughly satisfied as we were tired. Our shouts were 
answered speedily by Jim, who brought our horses over 
for us, and in a very few minutes we were once more in 
" Camp Content," enjoying a good supper round the 
blazing fire and more content than ever. 

The next three weeks were spent in carrying out my 
plan for joining forces with Professor Collie and his com- 
panions, and on August 16th we were back at "Camp 
Content." Two wet days were spent in exploring the 
immediate neighbourhood, including the magnificent 
gorge of the West Branch, a splendid deep and very 
narrow flume through which the little river foams and 
thunders, its waters frequently hidden from view even 
from the extreme verge of the cliffs, owing to the worn 
caves and hollows left in the winding walls by the action 
of the harassed current that has cleft its way in the long 
centuries through the barrier of solid rock. Then com- 
menced the last week of mountain work. 

I had three objects in view for my next expedition 
— a most ambitious programme: first, to ascend Mt. 
Alexandra; then to investigate the pass at the head of 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 395 

the western glacier ; and, finally, to make a way thence 
to Thompson Pass: thus exploring the whole section 
between Mt. Alexandra and Mt. Bryce. To this end, I 
burned my boats and sent the outfit to the Columbia 
camp whilst Kaufmann and I set out at 6 a.m. on the 
19th, in the hope of achieving at least two of these 
projects and gaining the shelter of the camp ere night- 
fall. 

The horses were again requisitioned to cross the 
river, which had completely changed its course during 
our absence, and we made good time to the glacier. 
Taking our way up the centre, we swung round to the 
western affluent, which was covered with debris, amongst 
which we picked up numbers of iron cubes, some of 
considerable size. A noteworthy incident was the dis- 
covery of a large cascade almost in the middle of the 
glacier. A turbulent stream flowed far across its undu- 
lating surface in a deep-worn channel, till it pitched 
headlong into a huge circular chasm and disappeared 
beneath the solid ice, fully sixty feet in thickness, con- 
tinuing its hidden course till it emerged into the light 
once more three miles farther down. 

Our desire was to attempt the peak by the north-west 
arete. ■ Previous observation showed that probably three 
sides were inaccessible, but we hoped that a closer 
inspection might reveal a way to escape the difficul- 
ties of the sheer or overhanging cliffs of the sky-line, 
and save the long detour required to reach the easy but 
most distant side. So we intended to try the long arete 
that stretches westward from the secondary peak, an 



396 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

almost exact duplicate of the larger one. This could 
probably in ordinary years be gained directly from the 
glacier by scaling the cliffs beyond the precipices in the 
angle of the west and central glaciers; but above these 
extended a cornice two or three miles long, so large and 
seemingly unbroken, that, with our camp removed, we 
did not deem it worth while to risk the chance of failing 
to get through it, and therefore determined to continue 
by the much longer glacier route. 

The ice-fall, which is extremely sheer and broken, 
forced us to the rocks on the north side, and they were 
so awkward in places that the rope was put on as a 
precaution. Eighty minutes' scramble took us high 
enough to try the ice again, and after skilful turning and 
twisting among the large and numerous crevasses, cross- 
ing several startling bridges, a safer but softer part was 
reached, and a steep and rather disagreeable finish 
brought us to the narrow glacial pass at eleven o'clock, 
about 10,000 feet above sea-level. 

A lofty ridge separated us from Thompson Pass 
and the valley running from it to the west; in front, a 
glacier descended into a tributary valley, with a con- 
spicuous unnamed mountain in the background. On 
our left rose the arete parallel to the glacier of our 
approach, and after lunch we commenced work in that 
direction. Steep at first, it soon became comparatively 
easy in gradient, and we kept mainly to the sky-line; 
some short and interesting bits of rock-work gave 
variety, and the universal looseness of the structure and 
occasional perpendicular drops of many hundred feet 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 397 

demanded caution, but we ascended rapidly, traversed 
several low eminences on the ridge and in an hour and 
a half reached the culminating point west of Mt. Alex- 
andra and its miniature. This was over 11,000 feet in 
altitude and commanded a fine prospect. 

But the chief interest lay in the peaks ahead. The 
wet weather of the past few days had left fresh snow 
upon the rocks, and many a glassy film and slope of ice 
made things look troublesome. But the secondary 
peak, which would have to be traversed first, appeared 
practicable. Most formidable, however, was the main 
ridge of the larger mountain. The actual arete was 
perfectly impossible, being broken in at least two places 
by. canopied masses of overhanging rock some scores of 
feet in height. The north side is absolutely sheer, and 
we could see no way up the face before us which, under 
the existing conditions, looked available. Nevertheless 
we went on, to try to get a closer and clearer view before 
declaring it wholly inaccessible. But so distant was it 
still that by 2.30 we were only at the lower peak, and it 
was obvious that with the extreme difficulties presented 
by the fresh snow and verglas there was no time to think 
of an ascent, and even to climb the nearer point would 
probably involve us in serious troubles, for a long and 
untried tract lay between us and our camp, and the days 
were getting short. 

So we retraced our steps, set up the usual Union 
Jack — my mountaineering visiting-card — upon the 
summit of the ridge peak, which we nicknamed " Conso- 
lation Peak," had another snack of lunch, and hurried 



398 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

to the glacier pass, where we arrived at 5.15. Our way 
now lay along the hard snow-slopes below the ridge on 
the Thompson Pass side. We knew that there was 
nothing like a pass in this direction, for we had already 
scanned the long and lofty wall that rises with almost 
unbroken perpendicularity for miles above the farther 
valley; but we had hopes that we could work along the 
crest and, traversing a rocky peak crowned by two shat- 
tered towers, eventually descend by slopes of scree to 
Thompson Pass. 

This we succeeded in doing after some eerie experi- 
ences. The first was the breaking away of a huge mass 
of rock, down which I was clambering on the verge 
of a fine precipice. And this adventure illustrates the 
peculiar need for caution which is imposed by the friable 
nature of the limestone of the Canadian Rockies, caus- 
ing difficulties and delays which would be unknown on 
peaks of solid character. Kaufmann had preceded me 
and felt no insecurity, but when my full weight was 
hanging from its upper edge and I was groping for a 
lower ledge to aid me in the precarious descent, a 
tremor, followed by a distinct yielding, warned me of 
danger. Instantly swinging to the inner side, I dropped 
the few remaining feet to a fortunately fairly ample 
standing-place, and Christian's firm and ready grip 
steadied me as a ton or so of rock went crashing to the 
base of the precipice, 1500 feet below, leaving a great, 
jagged hole above. 

The edge of the ridge, to which our progress was 
confined, became intensely steep, often vertical and in 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 399 

places overhanging, and it took slow and cautious climb- 
ing, with plenty of gymnastic work, to effect a safe 
descent. The dusk was deepening as we reached the 
foot, and we scrambled up the six hundred feet of arete 
to the towered pinnacles beyond with the assistance of 
the fitful moonlight. The long shadows and uncertain 
light made it very difficult to judge distances or steep- 
ness, and on the ice-field beyond especial care was 
needed, but fortunately the ridge was fairly simple and 
our progress steady. The peak itself, for which the name 
"Turret Peak" is suggested (10,200 feet), was crossed 
at eight o'clock, and in three-quarters of an hour more 
we were unroped and scurrying wildly down the loose 
scree, glissading wherever a patch of snow appeared. 
At ten o'clock we threw ourselves at last upon a grassy 
couch beneath the sweeping spruces that border the 
lakelet on the summit of the pass. 

It was so late and dark that Christian did not at all 
relish the idea of another midnight tussle with the dense 
jungle and mass of fallen timber that separated us from 
the camp, and proposed to stay where we were until 
daylight. I was of opinion that even a repetition of our 
Columbia finish was preferable to a night in the high 
open, with little shelter, no blankets, and no food. But 
as Christian steadily refused to let me leave him and go 
down alone, as I desired, I consented to remain. In less 
than an hour my teeth were chattering and I announced 
that I was not prepared to endure five more hours of 
such conditions, but begged him to stay, as I knew I 
could easily find my way. This he declined to do; so 



400 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

on we went, and found things infinitely better than even 
I expected, less than two hours sufficing for the journey ; 
and again we roused our admirable chef from his post- 
midnight slumbers at this fated Columbia camp, and in 
a few minutes were revelling in the delights of a roaring 
fire, delicious soup, hot tea, and bannocks, prepared 
a r instant by his willing hands. I, for one, as I crept 
into a comfortable sleeping-bag, after this excellent meal, 
did not regret the extra journey, and rejoiced that I had 
insisted on leaving the cold and hungry summit of the 
cheerless pass. 

Next afternoon we returned to spend the night up 
there, equipped with necessaries for a bivouac, and suc- 
cessfully achieved the conquest of Mt. Bryce, whose 
thrilling experiences deserve a chapter to themselves. 
That night we had a third finish after midnight, and it 
was certainly a strange coincidence that all our troubles 
of this nature on the trip should have occurred at the 
head of the West Branch, on the occasions of the only 
expeditions that we undertook in that locality. 

On our return from Mt. Bryce, we stayed once 
more at " Camp Content " to make another effort to 
reach the top of Mt. Alexandra, determined that we 
would not again be baffled, as it was a necessary link — 
the only one remaining — to complete acquaintance with 
the valley system on the Pacific slope between Mt. 
Freshfield and Mt. Columbia. 

Our start, on August 23rd, involved, as heretofore, a 
ford on horseback, and we followed our previous route 
at a slightly faster gait to the high glacier col, 10,000 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 401 

feet up, in five hours, noticing some striking changes in 
the upper glacier since traversing it four days before. 
Many bridges used that day had wholly disappeared, 
and the zigzags through the maze of fissures were in 
lines entirely different from the former route and more 
erratic and heart-rending, as well as more perilous than 
ever. Crossing the pass, we traversed an expanse of 
neve, close under the rocks of the sharp ridge, upon the 
crest of which our previous attempt was made. Soon 
we arrived at a small nick in a long spur from " Consola- 
tion Peak," which divides the glacier just crossed and its 
sequent valley from a much larger amphitheatre of snow 
and ice, walled in by rugged cliffs, above which rose the 
crests of Mt. Alexandra and its miniature in front of us, 
and " Consolation Peak " to our left. This glacier, aided 
by some minor ones, supplies another stream, whose 
valley, sweeping westward, joins that above-mentioned, 
and both unite with the affluent of the Bush River 
which has its source at Thompson Pass. Descending 
into the great basin, we steered straight across its ruddy 
surface, 1 fantastically marked with geometric patterns, to 
the base of the long, easily sloping back of Mt. Alexan- 
dra. Here, on another tiny col, we stopped for lunch, 
and spent a delightful hour revelling in the new land- 
scape of this western world. 

Beyond the notch the grand sweep of another glacier- 
headed valley stretched from Mt. Lyell and its western 

1 Many of the glaciers in the Rockies and Selkirks are remarkable for the 
red hue of the neve, acres of their surface being brilliant, with ruddy particles, 
which, I have been informed, are animalculae. This was perhaps the most ex- 
tensive and highly coloured of the several I have seen. 



4 02 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

spur right to our feet, trending to the South Fork of 
Bush River. We got new views of several of the promi- 
nent unnamed peaks of this untraversed land, several of 
them closely rivalling Bush Peak, the only one at present 
honoured with a designation. Rocks of many varied 
hues surrounded us; red, yellow and orange predomi- 
nated, set off by dark green and purple, and a mag- 
nificent ice-wall, pierced by caverns dazzling in their 
brilliancy of glacial blue and hung with arctic tracery 
and giant icicles, faced us across the gap. 

An easy climb, mainly over snow of a fair steepness, 
brought us by a steady pull to the top in eighty minutes, 
the elevation being estimated at 11,650 feet. Of course, 
in accordance with our unvaried happy fate (due some- 
what to careful weather-watching and waiting), we had a 
practically perfect view. An unbroken panorama of the 
glorious galaxy of northern peaks was spread before 
our eyes, and all the final details of the long stretch of 
previously undetermined watershed, with its adjacent 
valleys, was unfolded. All the peaks ascended during 
the past weeks were in full sight, as well as our familiar 
friends amongst the Rockies and the Selkirks in the 
vicinity of the railroad belt. One of the finest " effects " 
was the glance over the huge cornice edge, an overhang- 
ing shelf of a vast thickness and protruding more than 
a score of feet beyond the wall of the great precipice. 
Crawling to the rim, I lay as it were suspended in space, 
gazing into the abyss. The black cliff fell away sheer 
to the central ice-fall of the glacier, and even at its base 
scarcely appeared to have reached forward far enough to 



THE MOUNTAINS OF THE WEST BRANCH 403 

equal my position, thrust forward on this far-projecting 
crest of snow. Six thousand feet below, the ice-stream 
flowed in mighty volume to the depths of the green 
valley, where the river wound like a silver-gray ribbon 
through the distant flats. 

An hour was all too little for what I longed to do and 
see ; but camp, though near enough in a direct line over 
the cornice, was far away by the route we had to take, so 
by 2.30 we were glissading gayly down delightful slopes 
of admirable snow; and, returning exactly as we came, 
with a brief halt for some refreshment by the way, the 
camp was reached in wonderfully respectable time for us 
at half-past seven. 

This climb concluded most successfully the pro- 
gramme I had outlined and, after a Sunday's rest, we re- 
sumed our march towards civilization. The enormous 
mass of Mt. Wilson was traversed from end to end on 
our way home, and from its summit, about 11,000 feet, 
we bade a last farewell to the West Branch and its noble 
mountains, amongst which, besides two smaller peaks, we 
had been fortunate enough to make the first ascents of 
the four loftiest. 



CHAPTER XIV 

MOUNT BRYCE 

Darkness was gathering apace. The sun had set 
nearly an hour ago. A piercing wind from a world of 
glaciers was whistling by on its wild course; and the 
rising moon, shining feebly athwart a mist of clouds, 
revealed two shivering human forms silhouetted upon 
the sky-line of a rocky ridge 10,000 feet above the sea. 

One, perched on the apex of a cliff some seventy 
feet in height, a precipice on either hand, watches in- 
tently the painful progress of his companion in adver- 
sity, who, in the dim, shadowy distance, is clinging with 
chilled fingers to the vertical face of rock by hand-holds 
of the tiniest dimensions, and wildly waving first one 
leg and then the other in a blind search for some 
small broken ledge or scant projection which may bear 
his weight, and form another step in the slow, difficult 
descent. 

The mountain was Mt. Bryce, named in 1898 after 
the well-known British statesman, who then held office 
as President of the Alpine Club. Projecting west- 
ward from the Continental watershed, the mountain 
rises in splendid isolation from a massive base to a long 
and extremely narrow ridge, crowned by overhanging 
cornices of snow, and culminating in three sharp peaks 

404 




4°5 



MOUNT BRYCE 4 o 7 

of increasing elevation in the direction of the ever 
deepening valleys, till the final, sudden precipice of the 
main summit looms almost vertically above the tim- 
bered slopes and foaming torrent of the Bush River, 
more than 8000 feet below. Its rugged flanks present 
a long expanse of rocky walls, frequently sheer and 
always inaccessible, scored here and there by icy gul- 
lies, or hung with a glistening mantle of ice and snow, 
rendering access to the highest, or western, peak pos- 
sible only by traversing the long ridge almost from end 
to end. 

Mt. Bryce was first brought to notice by Professor 
Collie and Mr. Woolley, when they climbed Mt. Atha- 
baska and subsequently explored the great Columbia 
ice-field. In 1900 Messrs. Collie, Spencer and Stutfield 
forced their way from the west along the valley of Bush 
River, in the hope of reaching the three great peaks that 
rise preeminently in that vicinity, Mt. Columbia, Mt. 
Bryce and Bush Peak; but so dense were the forests on 
the Pacific slope, and so untoward the weather condi- 
tions, that they were compelled to return without achiev- 
ing the main objects of the expedition. Obviously the 
line of least resistance was by the North Fork, and on 
that account I had selected the West Branch as the 
centre of operations, it being not only the simplest ap- 
proach to Mt. Columbia and Mt. Bryce, but also a key 
position to the general topography. 

The second day after our Columbia climb, July 
2 1 st, Christian and I ascended to Thompson Pass for 
a reconnaissance of the other big peak from that side, 



4 o8 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

as the northern precipices had been seen to be out of 
the question. Felling a big spruce, we obtained a 
bridge across the swift glacial torrent and entered the 
woods beyond. The usual forest experiences of fallen 
trees and tangled brushwood marked the fairly steep 
ascent for three-quarters of an hour, till we emerged 
upon the shores of a delightful lake; a splendid rocky 
pinnacle, which I called Watchman Peak, towers like 
a sentinel 4000 feet above the vivid blue-green waters, 
which are fringed on three sides by firs and pines ; a 
lofty rampart, massed with trees, rises to the pass, 6800 
feet above the sea, where lies a second lakelet, still more 
attractive, with indented shores, clothed with brilliant 
greenery of every shade, grasses and moss and under- 
growth, relieved by the dark trees and broken here 
and there by rocky outcrops. On the far side a tribu- 
tary of the Bush River runs sparkling down a narrow, 
rapidly descending valley, sombre with heavy forests 
and frowning precipices, Mt. Bryce on one side and a 
long range of snow-capped mountains opposite. 

We clambered up the rugged slopes and ledges to 
the south, and, from an altitude of about 8000 feet, ob- 
tained a fairly comprehensive survey of Mt. Bryce and 
its approaches. Perhaps, strictly speaking, I should 
say " approach," as we could see but one that seemed 
to offer any prospect of success — and that was an in- 
ordinately long and trying one. Great cliffs girdled the 
base as far as our view extended, and even with strong 
field-glasses we could detect no break sufficient to 
afford any inducement to make a journey far enough 




WATCHMAN PEAK 
From Thompson Pass 



409 



MOUNT BRYCE 4II 

down the valley to find out for certain. A considerable 
overhang was evident in places, but it is quite possible 
that a closer inspection may reveal at least one line of 
ascent whereby a scramble may effect the desired result, 
and, if so, that will prove by far the easiest and quickest 
route. Failing* this, the one remaining chance was by 
the long ridge over the eastern, and possibly also the 
central, peak. But the character of the peak involved 
a serious problem besides length. Almost the entire 
ridge from end to end was corniced heavily. These 
huge cornices hung sometimes on one side, sometimes 
on the other. The arete was everywhere extremely 
narrow and the sides often hideously steep. Vast 
mantles of the winter's snows, as yet unmelted and 
evidently awaiting the slightest pretext to avalanche, 
were massed upon the upper slopes ; and away in the 
distance, at the head of the final peak, a weird, indis- 
tinguishable pile of broken glacier, buried in snow, 
hung beneath the summit and looked to be a most 
appalling barrier in its then condition. Remembering 
that we were but two, these dazzling possibilities of a 
first-class avalanche appealed strongly to our bumps of 
discretion and self-preservation, so reluctantly but val- 
iantly we came to the conclusion that it would be wiser 
to postpone the climb until a greater portion of the 
fresh snow should have had time to disappear. A 
drop in the barometer and several thunder-showers 
confirmed the wisdom of this decision. Next morn- 
ing our camp was shifted down the valley, and it was 
not until the 20th of August that we were again in 



412 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

quest of victory over the fascinating difficulties of Mt. 
Bryce. 

Having proved quite unequal to the task of persuad- 
ing Professor Collie's party to travel up the West Branch 
and share in the interests of the undertaking, Kaufmann 
and I were once again left to our own devices; and in 
the afternoon we wandered through the trackless forest 
from our Columbia camp to bivouac somewhere above 
Thompson Pass. In two hours we found a snug spot 
under a clump of balsams, in a hollow on the flanks 
of the massif of Mt. Bryce. A clear stream gurgled 
through the rich grass close at hand ; the abundant 
heather and spruce boughs, chopped with our ice-axes, 
provided material for most comfortable beds. Dry wood 
for fuel was collected and we looked forward to a good 
hot supper, when, to our dismay, it was discovered that 
we were matchless ! Christian, probably for the first 
time in his career, had omitted to bring a single one, — 
a doubly reprehensible oversight for a habitual smoker, 
— and every last one of my supply had been jerked from 
my pocket during the forceful struggle through the 
forest tangle. Every corner was ransacked without 
avail. Not a solitary match rewarded our united search. 
Ruefully the inevitable was accepted. Kicking the pile 
of firewood away, I subsided in chill despair, and Chris- 
tian deposited a " billy " full of ice-cold water on the 
grass before me and solemnly announced " Supper is 
ready." We tried cold-water bovril, but cannot warmly 
recommend it, and the chill of evening at our eleva- 
tion of more than 7000 feet, combined with a plague of 



MOUNT BRYCE 413 

mosquitoes and yellow stinging flies, drove us betimes to 
the recesses of our sleeping-bags. We tried to slumber, 
ineffectually for long, and then, of course, we overslept, 
and, having no fire, decided to wait for breakfast till we 
got into sunlight, hung up our blankets on the trees to 
preserve them from voracious marmots, cached our spare 
provisions, and started at 4.40 on our journey round the 
steep shoulder that intervened between the bivouac and 
the main ridge of Mt. Bryce. 

Crossing the Divide, we skirted along slopes of loose 
scree, which gave place later to heather and coarse grass, 
where flowers blossomed in wonderful profusion, driven 
upward by the advancing season, and stunted spruces 
reached an altitude several hundred feet higher than on 
the Atlantic side. Ascending steadily, we soon arrived 
at the little glacier that nestles in a rock-bound hollow at 
the mountain's base, and, crossing the high bank of lat- 
eral moraine, found pleasant going on the hard surface 
of ice and snow, towards the rocky face of a subsidiary 
point just to the east of the main mass of the mountain. 
On one of the lower ledges we halted for breakfast, and 
then by snow and slippery slabs clambered up to the 
connecting ridge above. Striking this at its lowest 
point we encountered the first really awkward obstacle. 
A snow wall about ten feet in height, and crowned by 
a small overhanging cornice, faced us across a yawning 
chasm in the hanging-glacier on which we stood. The 
snow was soft in the extreme and gave way at each 
attempt to form a step in its vertical surface, pouring 
like dry sand into the crevasse below. By dint of care 



4 i4 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and patience, however, two or three sufficient holes were 
excavated, and Christian, breaking through the cornice 
and planting his ice-axe in the firmer snow above, drew 
himself up to solid ground once more. 

We were now at the east end of a long slope of neve, 
trending gently down to a tongue of the Columbia ice- 
field on our right, and ending abruptly on the side of our 
ascent in a large cornice surmounting a rugged precipice. 
Beyond it rose the steep ridge along which we had to 
travel, comparatively broken and easy at first, but nar- 
rowing rapidly till the southern wall grew perpendicular 
and the northern slopes tilted at a tremendous angle, 
leaving but a razor-edge of jagged rock between, or 
crested by a great overhanging shelf of frozen snow. 

The weather, to our satisfaction, gave more hope 
than at the start, when clouds, clustered low on every 
lofty peak, augured ill for a clear view, without which 
any climbing success would count for comparatively 
nothing. A breeze had sprung up and the clouds lifted 
gradually; several summits already were emerging from 
the gloom, and Mt. Columbia, with its pure snowy dome 
wreathed in trailing mists, appeared like an ethereal 
vision against the pale azure of the sky, aglow with 
radiant dawn, and at its feet swept the broad snows 
of its vast ice-field. 

But we were obliged to hasten on, for we were only 
9500 feet above sea-level (about 2500 feet above the 
bivouac), it was already half-past seven, and many diffi- 
culties lay ahead. The route, of course, was quite 
untried and all we knew about it was that it would be 



MOUNT BRYCE 



4i5 



very long, and that there must be several exceedingly 
troublesome bits of climbing, certain to test our powers 
to the full, if not impossible to overcome. We had 
roped together before tackling the snow wall, and con- 
tinued thus throughout the day. Advancing rapidly 
over the level surface, steps had to be cut up the steep 




MT. COLUMBIA 
From the south-east 



icy slopes to the rock base, where ledges large and small, 
scarred rock-faces or rugged buttresses, with now and 
then a scramble on the sky-line, provided for the most 
part an easy and rapid progress, the customary rotten 
rock being the only drawback. Later on, the traversing 
of occasional icy or snow-filled gullies gave variety, with 
their alternative opportunities for us to slip on them or 



4 i6 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

for them to slide with us. The southern precipices were 
getting very sheer ; those opposite, increasing in sharp- 
ness to rugged escarpments, scored by narrow gullies 
and ribbed with minor buttresses, plunged downward 
some six or seven thousand feet, with no halting-places 
on the way, to the great glacier below. 

. Eventually, near the apex of the rock arete, well over 
10,000 feet above the sea, we came to a bit of cliff, about 
seventy feet high, which appeared so serious a problem 
as to threaten a summary defeat. We stood on the edge 
of the arete and it towered above us as a narrow but- 
tress, smooth, nearly perpendicular, with few excres- 
cences to grip or place even the corner of a boot upon, 
and of a consistency so rotten that only a small per- 
centage of the existing few would probably be reliable. 
The only relief was the existence of a tiny rift extending 
part of the way up, which broke the face in some degree. 
We peered round the angle on our left and discovered 
that we were about midway along a great bare wall, 
without a vestige of foot-hold as a rule, sheer in its 
drop of two to three thousand feet to the glacier at its 
base. There was no escape in that direction. Then to 
the right. A narrow gully broke the directness of the 
rocky face, descending abruptly, with occasional wicked- 
looking spikes of jagged limestone protruding from the 
surface and swept by showers of debris from the cliffs 
above. Beyond this, more buttresses as steep and 
uninviting as the one confronting us. 

So there was nothing for it but to try to scale the 
escarpment straight ahead, and Christian immediately 



MOUNT BRYCE 4I? 

led the way. Perhaps it might prove easier than it 
appeared; oftentimes when things look absolutely be- 
yond all hope it turns out a case of solvitur ambulando ; 
and though we knew the shortness of our rope was a 
serious drawback, we hoped that fifty or sixty feet up 
more favourable conditions might develop. The first 
dozen feet were fairly broken and not particularly verti- 
cal, but then commenced a strenuous conflict with the 
difficulties of this natural outpost, set to bar approach to 
the strongholds central tower. Hold after hold gave 
way as the guide tried them one by one, and fragments 
rattled down the gully and leapt from rock to rock in 
ever growing bounds till, lost to sight and sound, they 
dashed to final rest upon the glacier 6000 feet beneath — 
a most suggestive journey to those who were engaged 
in an attempt to climb that selfsame cliff by means of 
very slightly more reliable supports. 

Fortunately Kaufmann is a magnificent rock-climber, 
and it was a treat to watch the skill and science he 
displayed in his advance slowly and cautiously towards 
the goal. Now he was clinging to the rounded surface 
of the buttress edge ; now swinging into the narrow cleft 
at its side. Sometimes with arms and legs outstretched, 
like a gigantic starfish, in a wild endeavour to grasp a 
possible support ; or bunched together after a huge step 
upward, where no intervening foot-hold offered in an ex- 
panse of a yard or more. A tiny resting-place, perhaps 
an inch in width and two or three in length, on which a 
portion of a nailed boot-edge can maintain a transitory 
grip, is hailed with delight and looked on as a luxury. 

2 E 



418 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The least projection, if happily not slippery, suffices for 
a hold, and one slow gymnastic effort succeeds another 
as the climber gently draws himself upward foot by foot. 
As little spring or jerk as possible is the invariable 
rule, lest it detach one of the treacherous supports, and 
leave him hanging precariously on a fragile remnant, or 
hurl him in an instant on the cruel rocks that line the 
gully at his feet. 

For the rope is practically of no advantage to the 
leader under such circumstances. Though his com- 
panion may be firmly planted at the cliff base, the rope 
clutched in an iron grasp or anchored round a solid 
mass of rock, yet should the first man fall, a drop of 
twice the length of rope paid out must follow, and the 
chances of escape from, at the least, considerable injuries 
are small. Christian, however, is equal to almost any- 
thing one can encounter on the mountains, and certainly 
to all that gives a possibility of overcoming it; so, little 
by little, he made his way higher and higher till the rope 
was taut between us. Above him still nearly twenty 
feet remained of the bad bit, perhaps the worst section 
of it all. His situation was not of the most secure ; the 
slightest slip or jerk on my part would possibly be 
enough to drag him from his hold and so precipitate 
us both into the abyss, where the white glacier gleamed 
apparently so close beneath our feet, yet really more 
than 6000 feet away. But I must come on or give 
up the expedition. 

And the future ! It is an axiom that in nine cases 
out of ten descent is far more trying than ascending on 



MOUNT BRYCE 4I9 

a difficult rock climb. If we could only just achieve suc- 
cess by dint of all the skill and energy we possessed, 
how about coming down late in the day, most likely 
thoroughly tired, with all the additional dangers of a 
descent? However, the result of our deliberations was 
that, in the circumstances, there was an overwhelming 
preponderance of reasons in favour of success; so on we 
went. Soon I could halt, and Christian clambered to 
the top, where, anchored firmly, he could have held me 
or even hauled me up if all my holds had gone at once 
and left me dangling in the air. Nothing of this sort 
happened, nor was the rope needed even as an aid, 
though it was a climb that taxed my powers to the full, 
and some of the scant projections and occasional spells 
where in shifting holds one learns the wonderful prop- 
erties of friction as an almost sole support, brought me 
nearly to their utmost limit. 

In due time the tension was over and the victory 
was won. A total change in the character of the climb 
appeared before us now. The gradient of the ridge 
became quite easy ; rocks gave place almost entirely to 
snow; but the southern precipices were crowned by 
enormous cornices, to which a wide berth had to be 
given, necessitating a traverse of the steep snow-slopes 
that fell away at an alarming angle till they ended in a 
"jump off," beyond which only the valley bed, some 
7000 feet below, could be seen. For a short distance 
the going was delightful, and we had visions of a quick 
and easy finish, but soon the snow became very hard, 
solid ice succeeded, the axe was requisitioned and severe 



4 20 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

step-cutting followed for a while. Several strange trans- 
verse fissures had to be avoided, and another snow wall, 
this time frozen solid, had to be climbed across a wide 
crevasse, close to the edge of the projecting mass of 
cornice. Thence rapid progress along the broken, nar- 
row ridge ended in our arrival at 11.50 at the sharp 
summit of Mt. Bryce's eastern peak. 

Here, seated on the pile of loose rocks that forms 
the tiny apex, we enjoyed a well-earned rest for half an 
hour and an acceptable lunch, meantime taking in with 
much appreciation the extensive views from our advan- 
tageous elevation of 11,000 feet. The chief interest lay 
ahead. To our relief, the hopes of escaping the tedious 
and dangerous traverse of the central peak were con- 
firmed. As it was, we had presentiments already of a 
night out upon the mountain. But nothing short of 
absolute impossibility was going to deter us from achiev- 
ing the purpose on which we had embarked, and we 
were glad to find a shorter route by descending six or 
seven hundred feet to a wide glacier that swept along 
the bases of the three summits, skirting the central cliffs 
and striking the ridge again at a narrow gap between 
the two highest peaks. 

Down rocks and snow we hurried, carefully leaving 
a substantial staircase in the latter for use on our return, 
then across the glacier, covered with snow, save where 
the suggestive lines of huge crevasses showed dark upon 
the universal whiteness of the otherwise unbroken sur- 
face. The snow was soft and we sank deeply in at 
every step, but before long we were plodding laboriously 



MOUNT BRYCE 42I 

up the farther steeps, and in an hour and a quarter stood 
in the little dip where the descending ridges of the 
main and central peaks converge. 

Only nine hundred feet remained for us to scale, 
but the prospect was not at all inviting. The lower 
part of the arete was simple enough, though so knife- 
edged that, as we trod the snowy crest, both toes and 
heels projected into space, one on each side. Then 
came a cornice, hanging as before towards the south, 
with the slope frozen hard, presenting a safe and solid 
substance in which to cut steps. But beyond this lay 
the worst of all our difficulties. The crest of the cornice 
was suddenly reversed and topped the northern preci- 
pice. The slope, on which we were obliged to move in 
order to avoid the danger of the cornice giving way, 
now faced the south and was exposed to the full blaze 
of the summer sunshine. So steep was it that it seemed 
marvellous how the glistening curtain of soft and yield- 
ing snow, massed on a slippery substratum of glare ice, 
could cling at such an angle. It looked as though the 
slightest touch would tear the treacherous mantle from 
the shoulder of the peak and in an instant sweep its 
rude disturbers in the whirling volume of a seething 
avalanche into the distant depths. Yet at the same 
time the situation was not without its compensations. 
Had the configuration of the mountain been reversed, 
there would be no present record of any conquest 
of Mt. Bryce, for to dream of attempting the trav- 
erse of such a slope, when the failure of a single foot- 
hold might mean a fall of nearly 8000 feet, would 



422 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

be sheer madness. Fortunately when this grand abyss 
was yawning at our feet, the sheltered snow, congealed 
by an icy wind, was firm, and, though the labour of con- 
tinuous step-cutting was involved, there was perfect 
safety. Now that the sunny side was forced upon us 
as a route, the mountain-side, though steep, was never 
perpendicular, but covered by a pure expanse of snow, 
that, unbroken save in its earliest stages by protruding 
rocks, swept smoothly down to the broad surface of the 
southern glacier only twelve or fifteen hundred feet 
below. Even should we take a sudden ride in this 
unusual kind of automobile, there would be little likeli- 
hood of any further damage than the abandonment of 
our attempt. 

After long inspection and deliberation, the same old 
argument that turned the scale upon the first occasion 
of hesitancy again prevailed, and, in the firm conviction 
that skill and care could overcome, we decided on giving 
the snow a thorough test at least. It was a period of 
intense strain and watchfulness. Of course but one 
moved at a time. A jerk or spring would probably 
send us swiftly hurtling downward in an eddying 
hurricane of snow. Scarcely a word was spoken and 
not a needless movement was allowed. Even the hole 
made by the leader's ice-axe had to be utilized by his 
companion, lest any undue shaking or splitting of the 
crust might start a slide. 

With cat-like tread, face inward towards the slope, 
Christian would make a cautious sidelong step knee- 
deep in the soft, powdery snow, his ice-axe planted 



MOUNT BRYCE 423 

firmly and securely grasped; gently and patiently he 
trod a fairly solid resting-place for one foot, then 
quietly drew the other leg to the same hole and care- 
fully trampled a moderately stable little platform there. 
Another planting of the ice-axe and a further step was 
gingerly negotiated in the long, slow advance. After ten 
or a dozen were thus laboriously accomplished, he would 
halt and I as cautiously move forward to his side ; and 
so da capo. It was exhilarating work. At almost each 
fresh step a patch of crust, perhaps as large as a man's 
hand, would break away and, sliding downward with 
an ominous hiss, in a few yards gouge out a trench 
some eighteen inches wide and six or seven deep, and, 
gathering strength and volume as it sped along, form 
a fine specimen of a miniature avalanche and thunder 
to the glacier below. 

Two on a rope is a wee bit uncanny for such an 
undertaking, but foot by foot we made our way in safety 
until the worst was over and we took a welcome rest 
upon an island of projecting rock. Beyond this was yet 
another of the vertical snow walls which were a peculiar 
feature of the climb. First came a traverse on a narrow 
ledge under a canopy of dripping snow, so low that a 
most uncomfortably constrained position was necessi- 
tated. Keeping one's balance was not easy, and so 
unstable was the snow that a mere touch might readily 
displace the mass above, and our weight alone suffice to 
loosen the ledge and shoot us down the icy, snow-swept 
gully at our feet. Then the usual patient striving to 
gain a foot-hold in the sliding snow was resumed, and 



424 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

the usual ultimate success achieved, and solid ground 
once more rewarded us. All our toils were now 
forgotten. The long-desired summit rose quite close 
above, and eagerly we hastened towards the goal. A 
splendid hanging-glacier clings to the northern flank 
of the mountain's topmost pinnacle, a wild chaos of 
gaping fissures, ice-towers and seracs. We threaded our 
way through its weird arctic jumble, climbed a short, 
sharp arete, and, breaking through a little cornice, stood 
at last upon the mountain-top. 

A platform of unblemished snow crowns the great 
peak, a matchless natural observatory. The mighty 
walls are sheer or almost sheer on every side, save 
where the narrow ridge of our approach connects the 
bastion outpost with the rest of the upland world. 
Except for this, we seemed to be severed from earth 
and isolated in the realms of space. In front, to right, 
to left, over the brink of the rocky ramparts, we gazed 
into the heart of the green forest depths more than 8000 
feet below. Above these wooded chasms 

" Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise " 

in most bewildering complexity, rugged and desolate; 
huge, fantastic piles, with frowning precipices and jagged 
pinnacles, and vast, majestic domes, whose shapely forms 
are clothed in snowy splendour. 

The altitude was about 11,750 feet, the time 3.40, 
exactly eleven hours from the start, with only 4700 feet 
of actual ascent, which reveals the character of the climb 
better than much description. With Christian continu- 



MOUNT BRYCE 4 2 5 

ally hurrying me up, I could only allow a bare half-hour 
for photography and observations, and at ten minutes 
after four we turned our faces homeward. The descent 
was fairly rapid. The sunlight had passed from the 
snow-slope, and the cool of evening, aided by a keen 
wind, hardened it sufficiently to enable us to move with 
greater freedom than we expected. In spite of some 
photographic halts, we reached the eastern peak by 6.20 
and snatched five minutes for rest and a mouthful of 
chocolate before hurrying on along the upper portion 
of the east arete. Throughout, the steps made in the 
morning were of great assistance, and there were no 
delays beyond especial care at some of the most diffi- 
cult places. 

It was almost dark when we approached the well-re- 
membered cliff, which had been continually on our minds, 
and to reach which before nightfall had been the object of 
our hasty, foodless march. But we arrived too late. And 
now the question arose as to the wisest course to take. 
We were on the horns of a dilemma. To go on meant 
descending practically in the dark a cliff which we had 
deemed so difficult by daylight as almost to be deterred 
from undertaking it at all. But on the other hand, a 
night out 10,000 feet above the sea, without the small- 
est vestige of shelter, on the exposed sky-line of a ridge 
swept by an arctic wind, with boots and stockings satu- 
rated and certain to freeze (and possibly the feet inside 
as well) before the dawn could aid us on our way, and 
almost destitute of food, offered a prospect particularly 
uninviting. I left the decision entirely to Kaufmann. 



426 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

The risk was practically his alone. For me, descend- 
ing first, with the good rope in his trusty grasp, there 
was no danger, even should I slip or fail to find a hold, 
except for the short distance when both would be upon 
the face at the same time. For him, a slip, a lost grip 
or a broken hold might mean destruction. But again 
he voted for advance, and at any rate I could make 
a trial and report upon my personal sensations before 
his turn arrived. So I turned my face towards the rock, 
slipped over the edge, and entered on the fateful climb. 

It will be long before I lose the recollection of those 
seventy feet of cliff. Drawn out for one long hour of 
concentrated tension were the successive experiences of 
helpless groping in the dark depths for something to 
rest a foot upon, of blind search all over the chilled rocky 
surface for a knob or tiny crack where the numbed 
fingers might find another hold, of agonizing doubt as 
to their stability when found, of eerie thrill and sicken- 
ing sensation when the long-sought support crumbled 
beneath the stress and hurtled downward into the 
blackness of space, whilst the hollow reverberations of 
its fall reechoed through the silence. Then the strain 
of waiting on the best, but very questionable, protuber- 
ances for several tense minutes of motionless suspense, 
whilst the exigencies of the rope compelled Christian to 
climb down fifteen or twenty feet, and I could move 
again. At long last came the marvellous relief of feel- 
ing solid and sufficient standing-room once more, fol- 
lowed by the still more trying period of inactivity, the 
patient intensity of watching and hauling in the slack 



MOUNT BRYCE 42; 

as the rope came slowly and spasmodically down, telling 
of Christian's gradual descent, the strained anxiety lest 
any accident should happen to my comrade, and, finally, 
the thankfulness of seeing his figure looming close 
above and in a few moments standing by my side, and 
we could breathe again. 

In the dim light we poked on slowly down gullies, 
walls and ledges, tracts of loose debris, patches of snow 
and ice, to the broad neve where the mountain proper 
ends. It was past ten when we emerged from the 
gloom and difficulties of the rocks and allowed our- 
selves a few minutes' rest before commencing the final 
portion of the journey. To avoid several awkward 
places, a variation from the line of our approach was 
made by taking a wide detour, probably to our advan- 
tage, but involving more trouble than we anticipated 
in the negotiation of a steep, corniced ridge, which in 
the dark had to be descended backwards with a good 
deal of labour in making steps in the hard snow. The 
lower glacier reached, with staggering and unsteady 
gait we swung along the rough, uneven surface in the 
deceptive light, until about midnight we left the snow 
behind and could unloose the rope that had bound us 
together during nearly seventeen hours of adventurous 
companionship. 

Rough scree and boulders, thickets of dwarf spruce 
and tangled heather, were our next experience, but 
eventually at i a.m. we sighted the clump of firs that 
marked our cheerless bivouac. Though nothing but a 
little chocolate had been our sustenance since noon, it 






428 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

was too dark and we were too tired to enjoy cold bovril 
and canned mutton at this dismal hour. The blankets 
appealed most strongly to us, and we crept into our sleep- 
ing-bags and slept the sleep of the just till dawn. Off 
again at 4.30, we arrived in camp by six, and soon were 
seated before a glorious fire, enjoying the luxury of a hot 
meal once more, and doing ample justice to a varied 
menu. A few hours later the " outfit " commenced the 
return journey from these mountain solitudes to prosaic 
civilization, and a last farewell was said to this strangely 
fated camping-ground, where all three expeditions had 
involved us in post-midnight returns from more than 
twenty-hour climbs. 









CHAPTER XV 

FARTHER NORTH 

The earliest explorers crossed the Continental water- 
shed north of the limits of the territory which forms the 
subject of this volume, and the nearest pass then known 
was the Athabaska Pass, reached in 1817 by the ill- 
starred remnant of Ross Cox's expedition, and described 
ten years later by David Douglas, the well-known bota- 
nist. Two striking mountains, which stood guard above 
the pass, he named Mts. Brown and Hooker, and esti- 
mated their altitudes at the stupendous figures of not less 
than 16,000 to 17,000 feet, the pass itself being 5710 feet 
above the sea. All the geographies and atlases since 
then have given currency to these elevations, although 
for some years doubt has been cast upon their authenti- 
city, and the existence of peaks of that magnitude so 
near the railway belt was a matter about which many 
were extremely sceptical. 

In 1893 Professor Coleman and Mr. Stuart made a 
journey to that region with the express purpose of set- 
tling the question. Starting from Edmonton, they 
ascended the Brazeau River to the head-waters of the 
eastern branch of the Athabaska River, only a few miles 
from the upper end of the North Fork of the North Sas- 
katchewan. Following down the Athabaska to its juno 

429 



43Q IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

tion with a tributary from the south-west, they ascended 
the latter and rediscovered the pass of Mr. Douglas 
with its historic tarn, called " The Committee's Punch- 
bowl." But where were the tremendous giant peaks 
that have masqueraded on our maps for all these years ? 
The northern summit, the Mt. Brown climbed by Doug- 
las, was ascended, and careful measurement showed it 
to be only a little over 9000 feet, whilst Mt. Hooker, 
to the south, is scarcely so exalted ! Provided there was 
no mistake about the identity of the pass, which hardly 
admitted of a doubt, these famous mountains were thus 
proved to be little more than half the height they had 
so long received credit for. 

In 1896 Messrs. W. D. Wilcox and R. L. Barrett 
crossed the pass now known by the name of the former 
from the Saskatchewan North Fork to the Athabaska 
basin ; they struck Professor Coleman's trail, which they 
followed for a while, and finally turned up the western 
branch of the Athabaska as far as a fine lake (named 
Fortress Lake) towards the west, which proved on 
exploration to be on the Divide and to possess outlets 
from the opposite ends flowing to the rival oceans. Its 
height is only 4200 feet above- the sea. From the shore 
and from a minor elevation on the north bank, about 
8450 feet, Mr. Wilcox took triangulations of the most 
imposing peak to the west, supposed to be Mt. Hooker, 
from which he deduced an elevation of 10,505 feet, and 
also of an impressive mountain south of the lake, which 
measured 11,450 feet, and seemed to be the highest 
within a radius of many miles. 



FARTHER NORTH 43I 

It seemed now almost indisputable that the true pass 
and peaks had been identified, and that all the spurious 
glory that the latter had enjoyed for seven decades must 
be finally swept away. The only barely possible alterna- 
tive was that Mts. Brown and Hooker guarded some 
other pass, and that Mr. Douglas had in some way 
mixed his descriptions, though the clear and detailed 
narrative practically precluded such a supposition, and 
his itinerary scarcely permits of the exploration of a 
second pass. 

However, in 1898, Professor Collie, with Messrs. 
Stutfield and Woolley, planned an extensive mountain- 
eering trip in that direction, with the particular object of 
setting at rest for all time any doubts whatever on the 
subject. Other explorers had kept to valleys and lesser 
spurs ; they hoped by climbing several of the giant peaks 
of the Columbia group, to get such information from 
" the highest sources " as would solve the difficulty. 
Owing to various unavoidable delays and, finally, a seri- 
ous shortage of provisions, they were unable to go as far 
as they had hoped, though, by the ascent of three very 
lofty and commanding peaks, they practically assured 
themselves that no such alternative pass exists, and that 
there are no mountains that approach the altitudes in 
question. 

But after his return to England, Professor Collie, 
while hunting up all the data on the subject, came across 
an ancient periodical (The Companion to the Botan- 
ical Magazine, by Dr. W. T. Hooker, Vol. II, pp. 
134-137), in which the original journal of David 



432 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Douglas was published, and the following statement 
of the discoverer was brought to light. He writes: 
" Being well rested by one o'clock, I set out with the 
view of ascending what seemed to be the highest peak 
on the north. Its height does not appear to be less 
than 16,000 or 17,000 feet above the level of the sea. 
After passing over the lower ridge I came to about 
1200 feet of by far the most difficult and fatiguing 
walking I have ever experienced, and the utmost care 
was required to tread safely over the crust of snow. 
A few mosses and lichens are observable, but at an 
elevation of 4800 feet (sic) vegetation no longer exists. 
The view from the summit is of too awful a cast to 
afford pleasure. Nothing can be seen, in every di- 
rection far as the eye can reach, except mountains 
towering above each other, rugged beyond description; 
. . . The majestic but terrible avalanches hurling 
themselves from the more exposed southerly rocks 
produced a crash, and groaned through the distant 
valleys with a sound only equalled by that of an 
earthquake. Such scenes give a sense of the stupen- 
dous and wonderful works of the Creator. This peak, 
the highest yet known in the northern continent of 
America, I feel a sincere pleasure in naming ' Mt. 
Brown,' in honour of R. Brown, Esq., the illustrious 
botanist." 

Had this document ever been studied thoughtfully, 
the absurdity must have been at once apparent of an 
unskilled climber (or any climber at all) ascending, 
after 1 p.m., by a route "far the most difficult and 



FARTHER NORTH 433 

fatiguing he had ever experienced," a. mountain 11,000 
feet above his starting-point and returning before 
nightfall at the early date of May 1st, since he makes 
no mention of darkness overtaking him ! And so we 
chant with deep regret the requiem of these once famed 
but now dethroned monarchs. 

Neither Professor Coleman nor Mr. Wilcox aimed 
at mountaineering during these northern travels, 
though doing immensely valuable pioneer work and 
adding greatly to our knowledge of the mountains 
there. A somewhat similar expedition was made in 
1 90 1 by Mr. J. Habel, of Berlin, to investigate the 
head-waters of the Athabaska more closely and com- 
pletely. Following Mr. Wilcox's route to Fortress 
Lake, he penetrated much farther up the valley south 
of its eastern end, and also the middle one of the 
three streams which go to make up the main river. 
The easternmost, coming from Wilcox Pass, is called 
the Whirlpool, or Sun Wapta, indiscriminately. The 
central stream has no specific name, and Mr. Habel 
refers to it as the West Fork, calling its western tribu- 
tary the Chaba River. These latter unite a short 
distance below Fortress Lake. At the head of the 
Chaba Valley are two forks, each springing from a 
glacier surmounted by considerable peaks. The left- 
hand one was called the Coleman Glacier, and its peaks 
the Coleman Range ; the other with its chief summit 
received the name of Eden. An attempt was made 
to climb Mt. Eden, and a little col, 9245 feet in 
altitude, was reached between the" mountain and its 



434 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

eastern neighbour. The latter, Mt. Chaba, was then 
ascended instead, and found to be 10,300 feet above 
the sea. The West Fork was next explored to its 
head right under the magnificent pyramid of Mt. 
Columbia, here rising 8000 feet above the valley flats. 
The glaciers north-west of the peak were visited, and 
a pass (9845 feet) was reached (but not crossed) on 
the ridge dividing this valley from that of the Sun 
Wapta. 

From the point of view of the alpinist, Professor 
Collie's expedition in 1898 stands a head and shoulders 
above any other to the Athabaska region ; and from 
the observations made from the great altitudes attained 
the topographical results surpassed in many ways those 
obtained from lower elevations. The first ascent made 
by the party during the trip was Mt. Athabaska (11,900 
feet), which belongs to the Saskatchewan domain. Then 
the Dome (11,650 feet), on the Divide, was ascended 
from the Columbia neve, and finally Diadem Peak 
(11,500 feet), a lofty point upon the range that projects 
from the Columbia mass between the East and West 
Forks of the Athabaska River. 

This last climb was made from a bivouac, 7000 feet 
above sea-level, at the foot of the Diadem Glacier. 
Diadem Peak is the northernmost of three that form a 
minor group encircling a small valley on the left side 
of the Sun Wapta. The highest summit has been 
named Peak Woolley (11,700 feet), and the third, Peak 
Stutfield (11,400 feet). A tremendous rock-fall from 
the ugly, bare limestone cliffs of the two latter has 



FARTHER NORTH 435 

covered the whole valley, nearly half a mile wide, with 
boulders and debris to a depth of some hundreds of 
feet. " What had happened, apparently, was this. 1 
The immense amount of rock that had fallen on the 
glacier below Peak Stutfleld had prevented the ice 
from melting. Consequently the glacier, filling up 
the valley to a depth of at least two hundred feet, 
had moved bodily down ; and its snout, a couple of 
hundred feet high, covered with blocks of stone the 
size of small houses, was playing havoc with the pine 
woods before it and on either side. In our united 
experiences, extending over the Alps, the Caucasus, 
the Himalaya, and other mountain ranges, we had 
never seen indications of a landslide on so colossal a 
scale. Note. — The remains of a similar landslide were 
afterwards noticed blocking the outlet to Moraine 
Lake in Desolation Valley." 

The intention of the party was to try Mt. Woolley, 
but the dawn was unpropitious, and, soon after starting, 
heavy rain drove them to temporary shelter under a 
friendly rock when they had reached the foot of a formi- 
dable ice-fall that descends between that mountain and 
Diadem Peak. " In five minutes it cleared ; but the 
brief delay was possibly our salvation. 2 We were just 
putting on the rope to ascend the ice-fall, when, with a 
roar and a clatter, some tons of ice that had broken off 
near the summit came tumbling down, splintering into 
fragments in their descent. We took the friendly hint, 

1 " Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian Rockies," p. 126. 

2 Ibid., p. 128. 



436 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

and left that ice-fall alone. The only alternative peak 
was Diadem, so we turned aside and began climbing its 
face. 

" At first we had to make our way up slopes of loose 
shale and ice, and we kept fairly near the arete to avoid 
falling stones. This involved us in a scramble up some 
rather diverting rock chimneys; after which a sort of 
miniature rock-rib gave us safety from stones, and we fol- 
lowed it up to the summit. The rocks were very steep 
in places, and, as usual, terribly insecure and splintered, 
and one had to be very careful. The ' diadem ' of snow 
proved to be about a hundred feet high, set on the nearly 
flat top of the rocks. From the summit a wonderful 
panorama burst upon us, in spite of the murky atmos- 
phere. Standing as we were, near the Great Divide, 
we looked down on a marvellous complexity of peak and 
glacier, of low-lying valley, shaggy forest, and shining 
stream, with here and there a blue lake nestling in the 
recesses of the hills. Quite close, as it seemed, the over- 
powering mass of the supposed Mt. Brown (Alberta) 
towered frowning many hundreds of feet above us. It 
is a superb peak, like a gigantic castle in shape, with 
terrific black cliffs falling sheer on three sides. A great 
wall of dark thunder-cloud loomed up over its summit; 
and there was a sublime aloofness, an air of grim in- 
accessibility, about it that was most impressive. To 
the west we could dimly discern the outline of another 
high peak, with a large grey cloud floating like a canopy 
over it. Northwards the mountains were all much 
lower; and it was evident that the Columbia group 



FARTHER NORTH 437 

formed the culmination of, at any rate, this region of 
the Rockies. In these northern districts the landscape, 
as was to be expected, presented a sterner and more 
forbidding aspect : indeed, the softer and more homely 
features of Alpine scenery were everywhere absent from 
these higher valleys of the western Athabaska. One 
missed the tiny green pastures dotted about with brown 
chalets, the terraced cornfields and vineyards ; and the 
familiar tinkle of the cowbells would have sounded more 
musical than ever in our ears, for, as Mr. Leslie Stephen 
observes in ' The Playground of Europe/ these evi- 
dences of civilization tend to improve rather than spoil 
mountain scenery. 

" It was bitterly cold on the top. . . . All day long 
there had been a growling of distant thunder in the 
west, and as we turned to go down the storm burst upon 
us with a vengeance. It grew very dark ; a white driv- 
ing scud of sleet and hail swept by on the whistling 
wind, making our ears and faces tingle. The thunder 
rattled and roared in grand style among the crags ; 
the air was aboil with eddying twisting vapours; and 
the lightning leaping, as it were, from peak to peak, zig- 
zagged merrily athwart the sky. More than once we 
were constrained to stop and take shelter from the drift 
and sweep of the storm, throwing aside our ice-axes 
for fear of the lightning, which seemed to be playing 
all round us. We took the easiest way down the face, 
taking chances with falling stones; and it was with a 
feeling of relief that we ultimately got on to the glacier 
below. In the woods another bad storm struck us, 



438 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

with hailstones as big as — well, of the usual travellers' 
size — anyhow they hurt very much when they hit you, 
and again we ran down into camp like three drowned 
rats. During the night there were more thunder-storms, 
— we had five in twenty-four hours, — and the drip- 
pings from our leaky tent soaked our already damp 
sleeping-bags ; but we slept soundly through it all." 

Here, with the account of the ascent of the most 
northerly important peak yet climbed, we must part 
from our friends the Canadian Rockies. From Mt. 
Assiniboine to Mt. Columbia and Diadem Peak, we 
have traced them in all their unsurpassed and varied 
majesty. Although few peaks of the first magnitude 
and alpine difficulty remain unconquered by the ever 
advancing pioneer of mountaineering, the grandeur of 
these mountain monarchs, rising superbly from an un- 
rivalled setting, is still the same and always must com- 
mand the awe and admiration of the Nature-lover ; 
and, whilst those of us who have been privileged to 
lead the way to their untrodden summits will possess 
lastingly a double portion of love and reverence for 
these companions of our hours of solitude and medita- 
tion, of strenuous struggle and of final triumph over 
every obstacle, perhaps this humble record of some 
of these memories, however haltingly expressed, may 
influence some to visit and to know and love these 
noblest of God's monuments ; and, in the contempla- 
tion of His handiwork, be led to love the everlasting 
Maker of the everlasting hills, and not only find in 
Him the source of power in the might of His mar- 



FARTHER NORTH 439 

vellous creative works, but also reach the " heart of 
the Eternal " which is so " wonderfully kind." 

No words perhaps can better sum up the picture 
of these glorious mountains and their truest influence, 
than those of Sir Edwin Arnold: only, while trans- 
posing the scene from polytheistic India to Christian 
Canada, I would fain plead the privilege of altering 
the final word, and trust that that name — the " finis " of 
this attempt to tell of a little part of His wonderful 
world — may be the goal of all our thoughts and aims 
through life and our reward hereafter. 

" Northward soared 
The stainless ramps, ... 

Ranged in white ranks against the blue — untrod, 
Infinite, wonderful — whose uplands vast, 
And lifted universe of crest and crag, 
Shoulder and shelf, green slope and icy horn, 
Riven ravine and splintered precipice, 
Led climbing thought higher and higher, until 
It seemed to stand in heaven and speak with ' God.' " 



APPENDIX A 

THE SELKIRK MOUNTAINS 

A most interesting and exhaustive little work on the Selkirk Range, by- 
Mr. A. O. Wheeler, of the Dominion Land Survey, is about to be pub- 
lished by the Canadian Government, and, in order to avoid conflicting 
with any of the most recent authoritative observations and deductions 
contained therein, only a very brief and general note is here made 
relative to that range and its mountaineering history. 

The Selkirk and Purcell Ranges, commonly referred to under the 
general name of the Selkirks, cover an area roughly oblong in form, 
running parallel to the Continental watershed on its western side, and 
severed from it by the deep valley of the Columbia River. This area is 
about two hundred and fifty miles in length (dipping into the States 
at its south-eastern extremity), and a hundred miles wide near the bor- 
der line, though not more than fifty where it is crossed by the railroad. 
It is remarkable for being completely surrounded by two rivers, the 
Columbia and the Kootenay, which form an enormous trench or moat 
all round the group, never exceeding an elevation of 3000 feet and 
scarcely reaching half that height during the greater part of its extent. 
The Columbia lakes and marshes supply the head-waters of both rivers, 
which flow in opposite directions till two hundred and fifty miles apart ; 
then each turns with a sudden bend and doubles on its former course, 
and, after passing through the Arrow and Kootenay lakes, they unite just 
before entering the States. 

The character of this isolated group is igneous, hard schists and 
shales affording good holds for the climber, and the southern sections 
are alive with mining-camps. The culminating portion lies just south of 
where the railroad cuts the range at Rogers Pass. Here is the Illecille- 
waet Glacier, the nearest large glacier to a railway track to be found 
in America and perhaps the world, the famous Grindelwald Glacier 
excepted. Its crevassed tongue is only a half-hour's walk from Glacier 
House station, and leads to the Illecillewaet neve, a considerable snow- 
field, from the neighbourhood of which rise the loftiest known peaks, 

441 



442 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

Mt. Selwyn (11,038 feet), Mt. Wheeler (11,023 feet), Mt. Dawson 
(10,962 feet), and others closely approaching that altitude. But the 
most striking perhaps of all is Mt. Sir Donald (10,806 feet), which rises 
6500 feet above the railroad track as a fine rock pyramid. Northward 
the Hermit Range is set with several picturesque peaks, of which the 
highest are the Swiss Peaks. Farther north the region is scarcely known 
at all, but two fine mountains, one white, the other black, are quite con- 
spicuous and greeted us in every view we had of the Selkirks from our 
points of vantage in the Forbes and Columbia districts of the adjacent 
Rockies. 

The precipitation is very great in this vicinity, and consequently the 
vegetation is infinitely richer and more luxuriant than on the bigger 
range; cedars and hemlocks especially attain great size, and I have 
measured cedars over twenty feet in girth at altitudes of upwards of 
4000 feet. The deciduous trees also are found in far greater variety 
and splendour, and animal and bird life is more abundant. 

The principal mountain centre is Glacier House, situated in a charming 
lateral valley of the Illecillewaet, almost at the head of the main valley. 
The Illecillewaet Glacier and Mt. Sir Donald form a magnificent back- 
ground, and both are easily accessible. The chief gem of the district is the 
Asulkan Valley, named after the mountain goats which used to haunt its 
solitudes, a truly exquisite spot, richly wooded, with fine waterfalls and 
sparkling stream and a grand entourage of glacier and peak. The 
glacier is well worth a visit as far as the Asulkan Pass, which presents a 
view of singular grandeur, with Mt. Dawson and its attendant mountains 
facing us across the tremendous cleft of the Fish River Valley, nearly 
8000 feet below the highest crest. 

Climbing, although the rocks are infinitely better adapted for safety 
and comfort, is not nearly so attractive as in the Rocky Mountains proper. 
The peaks for the most part are absolutely simple, and the ruggedness,. 
grandeur and difficulties of the main range summits are to a large degree 
wanting. Nevertheless, the Selkirks were five years ahead of the Rockies 
as a field for the mountaineer, and almost all of the peaks have been 
ascended, by a variety of climbers and at all sorts of dates. Foremost 
in time stand Messrs. Green and Swanzy, then Messrs. Huber and 
Sulzer, Topham and Forster, and hosts of lesser names with one or two 
first ascents apiece. By far the largest and most important share has 
been accomplished by Mr. A. O. Wheeler in his work for the Dominion 
Land Survey, and, as I know from personal experience, he is as fine a 
mountaineer as he is a surveyor, and one of the keenest for the work 
of exploration, observation and mountaineering that ever lived. 










THE ILLECILLEWAET GLACIER 



443 



APPENDIX B 445 

The most popular and most frequently ascended peak is Mt. Sir Don- 
ald, named after the present Lord Strathcona, which occupies the same 
position with regard to Glacier that Mt. Stephen (named after the other 
great railway magnate of the early days of the construction of the Cana- 
dian Pacific Railway) bears to Field. The first ascent in 1890, by Messrs. 
Huber and Sulzer, was for some reason long considered mythical, and 
was not finally established beyond cavil until M. Le Prince Ringuet found 
their cards on the summit exactly nine years later to a day. Since then 
numerous parties have made the climb, Mrs. Berens, an English lady, 
being the first of her sex to reach the top (in 1901). 

It presents no difficulty whatever to a good amateur or a well-guided 
party, but affords specimens of most of the different varieties of rock- 
and ice- work and an extensive view, and it is a really interesting climb. 

All sorts of walks and scrambles, mountain expeditions of varied extent 
and calibre, and opportunities for studying the characteristics of the 
marvellous ice-world, make the attractions of Glacier House, situated at 
the very heart of the group, a most delightful spot and the best place 
from which to gain a knowledge of the interests and beauties of the 
Selkirk Range. 

APPENDIX B 

ACCIDENT ON THE GLACIERS OF MT. GORDON 

The dangers of traversing a glacier unroped could hardly be more 
startlingly exemplified than by the accident to Mr. C. S. Thompson near 
the summit of Mt. Gordon. It is safe to say that in ninety-nine cases 
out of a hundred a fatal termination would result from such a fall. This, 
most fortunately, proved to be the exceptional instance. By a happy 
combination of unwonted circumstances, when the hour arrived the 
means and the man for the emergency were both forthcoming. The 
ample supply of rope, occasioned by the abnormal number of nine 
climbers in the party, was the first requisite : the presence of a man of 
Professor J. N. Collie's rare calibre and physique, to turn the means to 
good account, supplied the culminating factor of success. Those who 
read between the lines of the modest, yet graphic and thrilling, narra- 
tive of the chief actor, quoted from " Climbs and Exploration in the 
Canadian Rockies" (p. 29), will realize that only the combination of 
remarkable skill, judgment, and resourcefulness displayed by the rescuer 
could have brought to a successful issue an adventure which in ordinary 
circumstances must have resulted in a fatal tragedy. 



446 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

" Some time was spent on the top [of Mt. Gordon], but, as there was 
another summit about a third of a mile to the westward, several of the 
party started off for it. It was dome-shaped and covered with snow, 
the first peak consisting of an out-crop of limestone rocks. It was near 
the top of the second peak that Thompson very nearly ended his moun- 
taineering experiences. Not far from this second summit a huge cre- 
vasse partially covered with snow had to be crossed. All the party had 
passed over but Thompson, who unfortunately broke through and at 
once disappeared headlong into the great crack that ran perpendicu- 
larly down into the depths of the glacier. Those of the party who were 
still on the first peak saw their friends gesticulating in the far distance, 
but did not take much notice until Sarbach drew their attention to the 
fact that there were only four people instead of five to be seen : some 
one, therefore, must have fallen down a crevasse. A race across the 
almost level snow then took place, Sarbach being easily first. Although 
Thompson was too far down to be seen, yet he could be heard calling 
for help and saying that, although he was not hurt, he would be extremely 
grateful to us if we would make haste and extricate him from the awk- 
ward position he was in, for he could not move and was almost upside 
down, jammed between the two opposing sides of the crevasse. 

" It was obvious that every second was of importance ; a stirrup was 
made in a rope, and Collie, being the lightest member of the party — 
and, withal, unmarried — was told to put his foot into it, whilst he was 
also carefully roped round the waist as well. Then he was pushed over 
the edge of the abyss, and swung in mid-air. To quote his description : 
* I was then lowered into the gaping hole. On one side the ice fell 
sheer, on the other it was rather undercut, but again bulged outwards 
about eighteen feet below the surface, making the crevasse at that point 
not much more than two feet wide. Then it widened again, and went 
down into dim twilight. It was not till I had descended sixty feet, 
almost the whole available length of an eighty foot rope, that at last I 
became tightly wedged between the two walls of the crevasse, and 
was absolutely incapable of moving my body. My feet were close to 
Thompson's, but his head was further away, and about three feet lower 
than his heels. Face downwards, and covered with fallen snow, he 
could not see me. But, after he had explained that it was entirely his 
own fault that he was there, I told him we would have him out in no 
time. At the moment I must say I hardly expected to be able to ac- 
complish anything. For, jammed between two slippery walls of ice, 
and only able to move my arms, cudgel my brains as I would, I could 
not think what was to be done. I shouted for another rope. When it 



APPENDIX B 447 

came down I managed to throw one end to Thompson's left hand, 
which was waved about, till he caught it. But, when pulled, it merely 
dragged out of his hand. Then with some difficulty I managed to tie 
a noose on the rope by putting both my hands above my head. With 
this I lassoed that poor pathetic arm which was the only part of Thomp- 
son that could be seen. Then came the tug-of-war. If he refused to 
move, I could do nothing more to help him ; moreover I was afraid 
that at any moment he might faint. If that had occurred I do not be- 
lieve he could have been got out at all, for the force of the fall had 
jammed him further down than it was possible to follow. Slowly the 
rope tightened, as it was cautiously pulled by those above. I could 
hear my heart thumping in the ghastly stillness of the place, but at last 
Thompson began to shift, and after some short time he was pulled into 
an upright position by my side. To get a rope round his body was of 
course hopeless. Partly by wriggling and pulling on my own rope I so 
shifted that by straining one arm over my head I could get my two 
hands together, and then tied the best and tightest jamming knot I could 
think of round his arm, just above the elbow. A shout to the rest of 
the party, and Thompson went rapidly upwards till he disappeared round 
the bulge of ice forty feet or more above. I can well remember the 
feeling of dread that came over me lest the rope should slip or his 
arm give way under the strain, and he should come thundering down on 
the top of me ; but he got out all right, and a moment later I followed. 
Most marvellously no bones had been broken, but how any one could 
have fallen as he did without being instantaneously killed will always 
remain a mystery. He must have partially jammed some considerable 
distance higher up than the point where I found him, for he had a ruck- 
sack on his back, and this perhaps acted as a brake, as the walls of the 
crevasse closed in lower down. We were both of us nearly frozen and 
wet to the skin, for ice-cold water was slowly dripping the whole time 
on to us ; and in my desire to be as little encumbered as possible, I had 
gone down into the crevasse very scantily clad in a flannel shirt and 
knickerbockers.' 

" A rapid descent to the head of the ice-fall quickly restored circula- 
tion, and that night over the camp fire the whole experience was gone 
over again, Thompson emphatically giving it as his opinion that, what- 
ever scientific exploration or observation in future might be necessary 
on the summits of the Rocky Mountains, investigations made alone, 
sixty feet below the surface of the ice, in an inverted position, were 
extremely dangerous and even unworthy of record." 






448 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 

APPENDIX C 

HINTS ON OUTFIT 

A short list of articles of apparel arid other incidentals, necessary or 
advantageous for mountain-climbing, may be of help to some to whom 
more or less alpine conditions are new. 
I. Personal wear. 

A good stout suit. Knickerbockers preferred by most. (The 
latter must be strong, as forests and crags are very hard 
on soft materials.) 
Puttees or leggings. For snow and forest. 
Stout boots, with plenty of nails in soles. 
Hat with good brim. Cap with ear-pieces useful to carry along 

if high ascents are undertaken. 
Gloves or mitts. Woollen preferred. 
Sweater. For high altitudes. 
Smoked glasses. Essential for snow and ice. 
II. Equipment. Necessary. 

Rope. Strong but light manilla, about half-inch diameter. 

(If a guide is taken, he will supply rope.) 
Ice-axe. (This can be obtained at Canadian Pacific Railway 
hotels, but it is better to have a private one if much is 
to be done.) 
Knife. 

String. (For emergencies.) 
Knapsack. (Unless guide can carry all needed.) 

III. Equipment. Optional. 

Camera or Kodak. 

Field-glasses. 

Compass. 

Aneroid. 

Clinometer. (On high ascents in all but well-known territory.) 

Sextant. (Ditto.) 

IV. Provisions. 

Bread (and butter, if possible). 
Cheese. 

Meat. Canned or otherwise. 

Water or cold tea. (Gourd or canteen is best for carrying 
water.) 



APPENDIX D 



449 



Useful luxuries. 
Chocolate. 
Jam. 
Dried fruit. (Prunes or raisins.) 



APPENDIX D 



A LIST OF "FIRST ASCENTS" 

(OF SOME PEAKS IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS UPWARDS OF IO,000 FEET) 

These records have been compiled from the most authentic sources 
possible. Chief amongst these are the valuable records of the magazine 
Appalachian edited by Professor C. E. Fay and published for the Appa- 
lachian Mountain Club by Houghton, Mifflin and Co., at Cambridge, 
Mass., U.S.A. The works of Mr. W. D. Wilcox and Messrs. H. E. M. 
Stutfield and J. N. Collie have also supplied data for ascents made by 
these climbers. 

The altitudes have been taken as far as possible from the most recently 
issued maps and publications of the Dominion Land Survey. Otherwise 
the best authorities available have been consulted. 

The list is arranged according to precedence of altitude and includes 
forty peaks. The names of amateurs are given in alphabetical order, 
irrespective of leadership. The names of Swiss guides are printed in 
italics. 



Mt. Columbia, 
Mt. Forbes, . 

Mt. Lyell, 
Mt. Athabaska, 
Mt. Assiniboine, 
Mt. Bryce, . 
Mt. Goodsir, . 



12,500 ft. July 19, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

12,100 ft. Aug. 10, 1902. J. N. Collie, J. Out- 
ram, H. E. M. Stutfield, G. M. Weed, 
H. Woolley, C. Kaufmann, H. Kaufmann. 

11,950 ft. July 24, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

11,900 ft. Aug. 18, 1898. J. N. Collie, H. 
Woolley. 

11,860 ft. Sept. 3, 1 90 1. J. Outram, C. Bohren, 
C. Hdsler. 

11,750 ft. Aug. 21, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

11,671 ft. July 16, 1903. C. E. Fay, H. C. Par- 
ker, C. Hdsler, C. Kaufmann. 



450 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 
Mt. Alexandra, 



The Dome, 
Mt. Temple, . 
Diadem Peak, . 
Mt. Victoria, 
Mt. Hungabee, 
Mt. Murchison, 
Mt. Lefroy, . 

Mt. Hector, . . 
Consolation Peak 



Mt. Wilson, . . 
Mt. Deltaform, . 
Mt. Freshfield, . 

Mt. Balfour, . . 
Howse Peak, . . 

Mt. Chancellor, 
Mt. Vaux, . . . 
Mt. Sarbach, . . 



11,650 ft. Aug. 23, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

11,650 ft. Aug. 21, 1898. J. N. Collie, H. E. 
M. Stutfield, H. Woolley. 

11,637 ft - Au g- l8 > l8 94- S. E. S. Allen, 
L. F. Frissell, W. D. Wilcox. 

11,500 ft. Aug. 26, 1898. J. N. Collie, H. E. 
M. f Stutfield, H. Woolley. 

11.400 ft. Aug. 3, 1897. J. N. Collie, C. E. 
Fay, A. Michael, P. Sarbach. 

11,305 ft. July 21, 1903. H.C.Parker, C.Kauf- 
mann i H. Kaufmann. 

11,300 ft. July 29, 1902. J. N. Collie, H. E. 
M. Stutfield, G. M. Weed, H. Kaufmann. 

11,290 ft. Aug. 1, 1897. J. N. Collie, H. B. 
Dixon, C. E. Fay, A. Michael, C. L. Noyes, 
H. C. Parker, C. S. Thompson, J. R. Van- 
derlip, P. Sarbach. 

11,205 ft. July 30, 1895. P. S. Abbot, C. E. 
Fay, C. S. Thompson. 

11,200 ft. Aug. 19, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 
Mt. Victoria (N. peak), 11,150 ft. Aug. 24, 1900. J. Outram, W. Out- 
ram, J. H.Scattergood, — Clark, — Zurfluh. 

11,000 ft. Aug. 26, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

10,945 ft. Sept. 1, 1903. A. Eggers, H. C. 
Parker, C. Kaufmann, H. Kaufmann. 

10,900 ft. Aug. 4, 1902. J. N. Collie, J. Out- 
ram, H. E. M. Stutfield, G. M. Weed, 
H. Woolley, C. Kaufmann, H. Kaufmann. 

10,875 ft- Au g- n> l8 98. C. L. Noyes, C. S. 
Thompson, G. M. Weed. 

10,800 ft. Aug. 14, 1902. J. N. Collie, H. E. 
M. Stutfield, G. M. Weed, H. Woolley, 
H. Kaufmann. 

10,780 ft. July 30, 1901. J. Outram, J. H. Scat- 
tergood, G. M. Weed, C. H'dsler. 

10,741 ft. July 16, 1901. C. E. Fay, J. Outram, 
J. H. Scattergood, C. H'dsler. 

10,700 ft. Aug. 25, 1897. G. P. Baker, J. N. 
Collie, P. Sarbach. 



APPENDIX D 



45i 



Mt. Habel, o . c 

Mt. Stephen, . . . 

Mt. Biddle, . . . 

Mt. Collie, . . . 

Mt. Neptuak, . . 

Mt. Thompson, . . 

Mt. Gordon, . . . 

Mt. Chaba, . . . 
Cathedral Mountain, 

Mt. Aberdeen, . . 

Mt. Kaufmann, . . 

The President, . . 

Turret Peak, . . 

Cathedral Spires, . 



10,600 ft. Aug. 15, 1901. J. Outram, E. Whym- 
per, C. Kaufmann, C. Klucker,J. Pollinger. 

10,523 ft. Sept. 9, 1887. J. J. McArthur and 
another. 

10,500 ft. Sept, 3, 1903. A. Eggers, H. C. 
Parker, C. Kaufmann, H. Kaufmann. 

10,500 ft. Aug. 19, 1901. J. Outram, E.Whym- 
per, C. Kaufmann, C. Klucker,J. Pollinger. 

10,500 ft. Sept. 2, 1902. J. N. Collie, H. E. 
M. Stutfield, G. M. Weed, H. Woolley, 
H. Kaufmann. 

10,500 ft. Sept. 6, 1898. J. N. Collie, H. E. M. 
Stutfield, H. Woolley. 

10,400 ft. Aug. 10, 1897. G. P. Baker, J. N. 
Collie, H. B. Dixon, C. E. Fay, A. Michael, 
C. L. Noyes, H. C. Parker, C. S. Thompson, 
P. Sarbach. 

10,300 ft. July 31, 1901. J. Habel and two 
others. 

10,284 ft* Aug. 26, 1 90 1. J. Outram, J. Bos- 
soney, C. Klucker. 

10,250 ft. Aug. 17, 1894. S. E. S. Allen, L. F. 
Frissell, W. D. Wilcox. 

10,200 ft. July 30, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

10,200 ft. Aug. 9, 1901. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann, J. Pollinger. 

10,200 ft. Aug. 19, 1902. J. Outram, C. Kauf- 
mann. 

10,100 ft. Sept. 5, 1900. J. Outram, W. Out- 
ram, C. ffasler. 



INDEX 



(An asterisk (*) = also mentioned.) 



Abbot Pass, (9800 ft.), Name, 89; de- 
scription, 89, 92; First Crossed, 
(1898), 90; *8i, 115, 150. 

Abbot, Philip S. Pioneer climber, 22; 
pass named for, 89; character as 
climber, 108; attempts Mt. Lefroy, 
115; accident, 118; death, 119; 
monument, 123; First Ascent, Mt. 
Hector, 278; quoted, 278; * 92, 109, 
112, 160. 

Aberdeen, Mt. (10,250 ft.), First As- 
cent, (1894), 88; * 77, 124, 128. 

Accident, Fatal, P. S. Abbot on Mt. 
Lefroy, 25, 115 ff. 

Accidents, Minor, Slip on Mt. Assiniboine, 
44; cornice on Mt. Victoria, 86; cou- 
loir on Mt. Lefroy, no; crevasse on 
Mitre Glacier, 125; crevasse on Mt. 
Gordon, 445 ff. 

Agnes, Lake, (6820 ft.), 79. 

Alberta, Mt. (c. 12,000 ft.), 16, 374, 382, 
390, 436. 

Alberta, Province of, 9, 313. 

Alexandra, Mt. (11,650 ft.), Name, 367; 
first attempted, 395 ff.; description, 
397; First Ascent, {1Q02), 400 ff.; 
summit, 402; * 15, S33> 362, 387, 

394- 

Alexandra, Queen, 346. 

Allen, S. E. S. Pioneer climber, 22; 
visits Mt. Assiniboine, 42; at Lake 
Louise, 77; writes for "Alpine Jour- 
nal," 77 ; First Ascents, Mt. Aberdeen, 
88; Mt. Temple, 143; First Explo- 
ration, Abbot Pass, 90; First Cross- 
ings, Mitre Pass, 125; Wenkchemna 
Pass, 139; opinion of Mt. Lefroy, 
112; names the Ten Peaks, 132. 

Alpine Club, American, 22. 

Alpine Club, The, Members climb in 
Canada, 21, 25; * 15, 323. 

Altitudes in Canadian Rockies, Highest 



known, 9 ; highest reached, 382, 385 ; 

mean of groups, 9; disappointment 

about, 295, 323, 363. 
Altitudes in Selkirks, 9. 
Amiskwi River, 197, 200, 201, 213, 326. 
"Among the Selkirk Glaciers," 21. 
Angle Peak, (9900 ft.), Fine view from, 

179; First Ascent, (igoi), 208. 
Annette, Lake, 128. 
" Appalachia," viii, 278, 449; Quoted, 81, 

92, 96, 116, 122, 135, 139, 224, 267, 

278, 283. 
Appalachian Mountain Club, Pioneers in 

Canada, 22; * 108, 160, 279, 280, 449. 
Arete = a ridge, 44. 
Arnold, Sir E. Quoted, 439. 
Arrow Lake, 133, 441. 
Ascents, First, Climbers' ambition, 3; list 

of, 449. 
Assiniboine, Lake, 43, 44, 54. 
Assiniboine, Mt. (11,860 ft.), Altitude 

and location, 9, 38, 65; "Matterhorn 

of North America," 13, 37; first seen 

by author, 37; appearance, 38, 51 ; 

description, 38, 41, 43, 55, 64, 66; 

name, 41; history, 41 ff.; first visited, 

41; later visits, 42, 43; circuit of, on 

foot, 42; first attempt to climb, 43; 

second, 44; third, 45; fourth, 56 ff.; 

Banff starting-point, 35, 47; time on 

journey, 46, 71; distance, 48; best 

route, 50; First Ascent, (1901), 

63 ff.; summit, 65; second ascent, 71 ; 

seen from distant peaks, 37, 163, 251 ; 

* viii, 13, 77, 142, 183, 227, 335, 349, 

438. 

Astley, F., 119. 

Asulkan Pass and Valley, 442. 

Athabaska Glacier, 374. 

Athabaska, Mt. (11,900 ft.), First As- 
cent, (1898), 329 ff.; view from, 331, 
373J * l6 > 374, 377* 39°, 4°7> 434- 



453 



454 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



AthabaskaPass, (5710 ft.), First Crossed, 
{18 17), 17; again crossed, 17; iden- 
tity, 429 to 431. 

Athabaska River, Head-waters explored, 
429, 430, 433; * 6, 8, 15, 16, 282, 302, 
318, 328, 363, 372, 373, 376, 381, 384, 

390, 434- 
Avalanches, Danger from, 102, 252, 421, 

423- 
Aylmer, Mt. (10,333 ft -)> 3 2 - 

Babel, Tower of, 131, 132. 

Baker, G. P. Pioneer climber, 25 ; crosses 

Baker Pass, 213; First Ascents, Mt. 

Gordon, 282; Mt. Sarbach, 302; on 

Mt. Freshfield, 322. 
Baker, Mt., 222, 282. 
Baker Pass, First Crossed, (1897), 213, 

326. 
Balfour Glacier, 230 ff., 281. 
Balfour, Mt. (10,875 ft -)» Altitude and 

location, 14, 283; attempts to climb, 

283; First Ascent, (1898), 283; 

* 146, 194, 210, 226, 228, 229, 230, 

265, 281, 282, 316. 
Balfour Pass, (8400 ft.), First Crossed, 

(/go/), 230; * 210, 221, 277, 282. 
Ball, Mt. (10,900 ft.), 14, 66, 252. 
Ballard, Fred. Packer on trip North, 

271; chef, 271, 386, 400; mishap in 

Bear Creek, 306; * 275, 287, 327. 
Banff, Description, 31; starting-point for 

Mt. Assimboine, 35, 47, 48; * 71, 77, 

272, 307. 
Barrett, R. L. First visit to Mt. Assini- 

boine, 41; second, 42; expedition to 

Fortress Lake, 430. 
Bear Creek, 295, (or Mistaya River, q.v.). 
Bears, 12, 51, 238, 248. 
Bears' Bath-tub, The, 51. 
Beaverfoot Range, 245. 
Beaverfoot River and Valley, 19, 153, 237, 

239, 240, 246, 251, 256. 
Beehive, The, 79. 
Berens, Mrs., 445. 
Bergschrund = a fissure in a glacier at a 

mountain's base, 102, 21 1, 223, 381. 
Biddle, Mt. (10,500 ft.), First Ascent, 

(/903), 96 ff.; * 90, 92, 93,95- 
Bighorn Sheep, 12, 286, 308, 331. 
Bivouacs, 242, 249, 255, 311, 346, 359, 

399, 412. 



Blaeberry River and Valley, 213, 318, 323, 

324, 326, 363, 390. 
Bohren, Christian, (Swiss guide). First 

Ascents, Mt. Assiniboine, 47 ff.; Mt. 

Wapta, 177; * 181. 
Books on the Canadian Rockies, viii, 449. 
Bossoney, Joseph, (Swiss guide). First 

Ascents, The Mitre, 88; Cathedral 

Mtn., 172; * 198. 
Boulder Creek, 182, 184. 
Bourgeau Range, 32. 
Bow Falls, 32. 
Bow Glacier, 224, 281, 282, 290, 291, 

295- 
Bow Lake, 224, 281, 290, 293, 294. 
Bow Pass, (6700 ft.), First Crossed, 

(18 j8), 19; summit, 294 ff.; * 77, 290, 

292, 333> 334- 

Bow Peak, 276, 290. 

Bow (or Laggan) Range, 14. 

Bow River, Best-known route to Rockies, 
18; first reached on C. P. R., 30; 
sources, 291, 292; * 8, 32, 47, 48, 50, 
77, 128, 224, 233, 276, 277. 

Bow Valley, 32, 49, 71, 77. 

Bow Valley, Upper, 146, 210, 231, 233, 
271, 276, 278, 280, 281, 290, 293. 

Brazeau River, 429. 

Bridge, Natural, 165. 

British Columbia, [Admitted as Province, 
(/871), 19, 27; * 9, 186, 313. 

Brown, Mt. (c. 9000 ft.), Discovered, 
(/827 s ), 17; fabulous altitude, 17, 18, 
429; real altitude, 430; First Ascent, 
(/827), 432; * 329, 374, 431, 436. 

Brown, R., 432. 

Bryant, Ff. G. Visits Mt. Assiniboine, 43; 
first climbing on, 44; second, 45. 

Bryce, Mt. (11, 750 ft.), Altitude and loca- 
tion, 15, 404; reconnoitred, 386, 408; 
description, 41 1 ; First Ascent, 
(/Q02), 412 ff.; summit, 424; seen 
from distant peaks, 324, 333, 366, 369, 
374, 390; * 201, 269, 362, 371, 372, 
377' 387. 395> 400, 404, 407. 

Bryce, Right Hon. James, 374, 404. 

Buffalo, 29, 31. 

Burgess, Mt. (c. 9000 ft.), Ascent of, 
181; * 192, 193, 206. 

Burgess Pass, (7300 ft.), Description, 192, 
193; * 176, 177, 181,182, 184. 

Bush Glacier, 324, 361. 



INDEX 



455 



Bush Pass, (7800 ft.), First Explored, 

{1902)* 359 ff-5 * 3H- 
Bush Peak, (c. 11,000 ft.), 314, 324, 402, 

407. 
Bush River and Valley, 6, 15, 304, 318, 

324, 359, 361, 362, 363, 377, 390, 401, 

402, 407, 408. 

Cache = a hiding-place, 60, 276, 307, 

3i8> 4i3- 

Calgary, 30. 

Campbell, R., 220, 283. 

Camping, Delights of, 5; outfit for, 
272 ff. ; routine of, 49, 274, 275, 287, 
345; scenes at, 199, 247, 289, 370. 

Camping-grounds, Requirements, 288; 
variety of, 289. 

Camps, Highest, 288 ; lowest, 288 ; tem- 
perature, 288, 345, 359; Camp Colum- 
bia, 288, 289, 370, 395, 400, 412, 428; 
Camp Content, 387, 394, 400. 

Canada, Dominion of, Formed, (1867), 19. 

Canada, Highest altitude reached in, 382, 

.385. 
" Canada, The Rockies of," viii, 22, 42, 77, 
449; Quoted, 43, 44, no, 125, 131, 

143. 

Canadian Government, The, Commences 
railroad, 19 ; forms National Parks, 
31; improves trails, etc., 242, 267. 

Canadian Pacific Railway, Inception, 19 ; 
history, 27, 28; scenery, 27 ff.; gradient 
west of Divide, 151. 

Canadian Pacific Railway Co., Organized, 
(/&?/), 19, 28; furnishes guides, 108; 
develops neighbourhood, 190, 214, 
242; courtesy of officials, 240, 270. 

" Canadian Rockies, Climbs and Explora- 
tion in the," viii, 449; Quoted, 35, 133, 
302, 303, 316, 329, 373, 374, 435, 445- 

Canadian Rocky Mountains, The, General 
characteristics, 4, 5, 9; compared with 
Switzerland, 4, 5; physical features, 7, 
107, 133, 159, 161, 164, 172 ff., 238, 
271, 281, 301, 303; watershed, q.v.; 
timber, cf. forests; flora, q.v.; fauna, 10 
to 13; mountain groups, 13 to 16; 
highest peak known, 9 ; mean eleva- 
tions, 9; highest altitude reached, 382, 
385; best approach to, 18; early 
climbing, 20, 22 ; mountaineering 
facilities, 107, 108; forest fires, q.v.; 



fossils, 161, 303; crystals, 164; min- 
erals, 177, 238, 395; temperature, 288, 
359; rainfall, 342. 

Canyons, Kicking Horse, 150, 171 ; see 
also Gorges. 

Carey, R., 240. 

Cascade Mtn. (9875 ft.), Ascent of, 35; 

* 31, 32, 48, 161. 
Cascade Range, 3. 
Cascades, Ice, 229. 
Castle Mtn., 78. 

Cataract River and Valley, 80, 89, 96, 97, 
150, 169, 175, 185. 

Cataract Valley, (North Saskatchewan), 
362. 

Cathedral Mtn. (10,284 ft-)> Description, 
169, 172; First Ascent, (iqoi), 172 
ff.; summit, 174; * 14, 95, 97, 107, 
15°' J 5 2 > !54, 164, 171, 177, 185, 193, 
212, 265. 

Cathedral Spires, (10,100 ft.), Description, 
I 53> I ^>9> first attempted, 167; First 
Ascent, (iqoo), 168 ff.; summit, 171; 

* 174, 179. 

Cayuses, Characteristics, 273, 275, 287, 
300; episodes, 276, 277, 291, 306, 307. 

Cedars, 10, 442. 

Chaba, Mt. (10,300 ft.), First Ascent, 
(igoi), 434. 

Chaba River and Valley, 433. 

Chalets, Emerald Lake, 192; Field, 144, 
154; Lake Louise, 79, 233; Moraine 
Lake, 127; Swiss, 3, 5,437- 

Chancellor, Mt. (10,780 ft.), Description, 
234; first attempted, 255 ff. ; First 
Ascent, (/907), 260 ff. ; summit, 264; 

* 14, 238, 244, 246, 251, 266. 
Chancellor Ridge, The, 256. 
Cheadle, Dr., 19. 

Clark, M. (Lewis and Clark's expedition), 

17- 

Climber's Ambition, 2, 3. 

Climber's Estimate of the general char- 
acter of Rockies, 107. 

Climbing Dangers and Problems, 21, 99; 
avalanches, q.v.; cornices, q.v.; crag- 
work, q.v.; crevasses, q.v.; falling ice, 
435 ; falling stones, 104, 1 17, 348, 355 5 
glissades, 102, 176; loose rocks, 104, 
252, 257, 398; the ice-axe, 104, 105; 
the rope, q.v. 

Climbing, Delights of, 20, 313. 333. 



456 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



Climbing Episodes, Mt. Assiniboine, 64, 
65, 69; Mt. Victoria, 81 ff.; Mt. Lefroy, 
116 ff.; Mt. Deltaform, 136 ff. ; Mt. 
Hungabee, I39ff; Mt. Stephen, 158 ft.; 
Mt. Goodsir, 250 ff.; Mt. Chancellor, 
257, 262 ff. ; Mt. Athabaska, 329 ; Mt. 
Forbes, 348 to 356, 358; Mt. Bryce, 
413 ff. ;426; Mt. Diadem, 435 ff.; cf. 
also Accidents. 

" Climbs and Exploration in the Canadian 
Rockies," viii, 449; Quoted, 35, 133, 
302, 303, 316, 329, 373, 374, 435, 

445- 

Clouds, Lakes in the, 78. 

Coast Range, 8. 

Col = a notch or pass, 35. 

Coleman Glacier and Range, 433. 

Coleman, Prof. Visits Athabaska Pass, 
429 ff; ascends Mt. Brown, 430; * 433. 

Collie, Mt. (10,500 ft.), First Ascent, 
(1901), 221 ff. ; summit, 223; first 
attempted, 224 ff. ; seen from distant 
peaks, 213, 228, 266, 308; * 107, 202, 
221, 281, 282, 285. 

Collie, Prof. J. N. Pioneer climber, 25 ; 
author, viii, 25, 449 ; First Ascents, 
Mt. Edith, 35 ; Mt. Victoria, 8 1 ff.; 
Mt. Lefroy, 121 ; Mt. Neptuak, 133; 
Mt. Gordon, 1%2.; Mt. Thompson, 282; 
Mt. Sarbach, 302 ; Mt. Murchison, 
303; Hotvse Peak, 316; Mt. Freshfield, 
321; Mt. Athabaska, 329; Mt. Forbes, 
347; The Dome, 375; Diadem Peak, 
434; First Exploration, Bush Pass, 
359; Columbia Ice-field, 374; Bush 
Valley, 407; First attempts, Mt. Mur- 
chison, 302; Mt. Freshfield, 322; Mt. 
Forbes, 336; crosses Baker Pass, 213; 
expedition to Athabaska head-waters, 
431, 434; discovers Douglas' journal, 
431; rescues C. S. Thompson from 
crevasse, 445; book quoted, 35, 133, 
302, 303, 316, 329, 373, 374, 435, 445; 
* 3^5, 3i8, 335, 349. 35 2 , 3°o, 362, 
373, 384. 

Collie's Party, Prof., 139, 271, 276, 302, 
316, 326, 378, 394, 412, 434. 

Colorado mountains, 3, 4. 

Columbia Ice-field, (c. 10,000 ft.), Loca- 
tion, altitude and extent, 6, 375, 381, 
384; description, 371 to 373, 377; 
First Explored, (1898), 374; First 



Crossed, {1902), 376 ff.; hydrographi- 
cal centre, 6, 376, 385; * 8, 329, 407, 
414, 434. 

Columbia Lakes, 441. 

Columbia, Mt. (12,500 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 9, 13, 16, 372, 382; named, 
374; author's first views of, 212, 369; 
reconnoitred, 371 ; first attempted, 
(1898), 374 ft.; First Ascent, {1902), 
376 ff.; summit, 382; finest appearance, 
381; identity with "Gamma," 381, 
384; seen from distant peaks, 212, 333, 
357,388,390,414; * viii, 107,201,269, 
3 2 4, 335, 363, 400, 407, 43 1 * 434, 436, 
438. 

Columbia River, First journey up, (i8iy), 
17; * 6, 9, 19, 89, 133, 223, 326, 373, 
376, 44i. 

Committee's Punch-Bowl, The, (5710 ft.), 
Discovered, (1827), 17; * 430. 

" Companion to the Botanical Magazine, 
The," 431; Quoted, 432. 

"Consolation Peak," (11,200 ft.), 233> 
401 ; First Ascent, (1902), 397. 

Consolation Valley, 132. 

Conway, Mt., 323. 

Cornices = overhanging shelves of snow, 
66; Danger of, 102; fall through, 86; 
reversed, 252, 253, 421. 

Cornwall and York, T.R.H. the Duke 
and Duchess of, Visits to Field, 186. 

Coronation Peak, 346. 

Cottonwood trees, 10, 327. 

Cowan, A. H. Photographs by, 73, 82, 
124, 195. 

Cox, Ross. Pioneer explorer, (1817), 17, 
429. 

Crag- work, Difficulties and dangers of, 64, 
65, 69, 103 ff., no, 117, 136, 139 ff, 
158 ff., 250 ff, 257, 262 ff., 330, 348 ff, 
398, 417 ff., 426. 

Crevasses = fissures in glaciers, 59; Dan- 
gers of, 100, 101, 125, 225, 312, 445. 

Cross River, 42, 43, 53, 66. 

Crystals, 164. 

Curtis, R. F. First Crossing, Abbot Pass, 
90; * 160, 283. 

Daly, Mt. (10,255 ft), 146, 276, 281, 284. 
Dangers and Difficulties in climbing, 21, 

100 ff.; cf. also Avalanches; Cornices; 

Crag-work; Crevasses. 



INDEX 



457 



Dawson, Dr. G. M. Leads Geological 
expedition, (1883), 20; * 41, 239. 

Dawson, Mt. (10,962 ft.), 243, 384, 442. 

" Death Trap, The," 92. 

Deer, 11, 238. 

Deltaform, Mt. (10,905 ft.), Name, 134; 
First Ascent, (790?), 135 ff.; summit, 
137; * 14, 78, 138, 141, 266. 

Dennis, Mt. (7971 ft.), 181, 182. 

Dennis Pass, (7300 ft.), 97, 98, 182, 184. 

Dent Blanche, 38, 51, 335. 

Dent, Mt., 314, 323. 

Desolation Valley, 127, (or Valley of the 
Ten Peaks, q.v.). 

Deville, E. Surveyor General of Canada, 
supplies instruments, 273; maps, viii. 

Diadem Glacier, 434. 

Diadem Peak, (11,500 ft.), First Ascent, 
(/£9#),434 ff.; summit, 436; * 16,438. 

Difficulties of scientific work, 245, 388, 

393- 
Divide, The Great, (5296 ft.), 149. 
Dixon, Prof. H. B. Pioneer climber, 25; 
. First Ascents, Mt. Lefroy, 121; Mt. 

Gordon, 282. 
Dolomite character of peaks, 173, 281. 
Dolomite Pass, 280, 281. 
Dolomite River, 280, 281. 
Dome, The, (11,650 ft.), First Ascent, 

(7898), 375 ; important location of, 

376; * 16, 377, 434. 
Dominion Land and Geological Surveys, 

Altitudes determined, Mt. Robson, 9; 

Mt. Assiniboine, 65; Mt. Goodsir, 78; 

Mt. Temple, 78; Mt. Columbia, 382; 

work in 8o's, 19; reports quoted, 158, 

159; work in Selkirks, 441, 442; 

courtesy re maps and instruments, 

viii, 273, 449. 
Dominion of Canada, Formed, (1867), 19. 
Douglas, David. Pioneer explorer, (1827) , 

17; journal quoted, 432; * 18, 429, 

430, 431. 
Douglas, Mt., 377. 
Douglas, W., 71. 
Dry glacier, 321. 
Du Bois, H. W. First Ascent, Yoho 

Peak, 220; Photograph by, 39. 
Duchesnay, E. J. Character, 182; death, 

183; * 184, 215, 218, 219, 240, 261. 
Duchesnay, Lake, 215. 
Duchesnay, Mt., 184. 



Duchesnay Pass, (c. 8500 ft.), First 
Crossed, (1902), 184, 185; * 97, 182. 

Eagle Peak, 243. 

Eagles, 13, 48; golden, 338. 

Eden Glacier and Mt., 433. 

Edith Peak, (9154 ft.), First Ascent, 

(J900), 35 ; * 48. 
Edmonton, 429. 

Edward VII, King, Coronation of, 346. 
Eggers, Dr. A. First Ascents, Mt. 

Biddle, 96 ; Mt. Deltaform, 135. 
" Eggs, Glacier," 227. 
Emerald Group, 206, (now, President 

Group, q.v.). 
Emerald Lake, Description, 192; * 177, 

179, 180, 181, 189, 190, 197, 204, 205, 

234. 
Emerald Pass, (9800 ft.), First Crossed, 

(1901), 205. 
Emerald Peak, 206, (now, The President, 

q.v.). 

Fairview, Mt. (or Goat Mtn.), 80, 109, 
127, 128. 

Fatal accident, 1 16 ff. 

Fauna of Canadian Rockies, 10 ff. 

Fay, Mt., 132. 

Fay, Prof. C. E. Pioneer climber, 22 ; 
Pres. Appalachian Mountain Club, 
22 ; Pres. American Alpine Club, 22; 
Editor " Appalachia," viii, 449 ; First 
Ascents, Mt. Victoria, 81 ; Mt. Le- 
froy, 121; Mt. Vaux, 243; Mt. 
Goodsir, 266 ; Mt. Hector, 278 ; Mt. 
Gordon, 282 ; First Crossing, Abbot 
Pass, 90 ff. ; First attempts, Mt. Le- 
froy, in, 115; Mt. Goodsir, 248; 
Mt. Chancellor, 256 ; accident, 95, 
260; ascends Mt. Stephen, 160 ; Ot- 
tertail expedition, 239, 240 ; quoted, 
81, 92, 116, 120, 122, 162, 267; photo- 
graph by, 91; * 78, 87, 97, 109, 176, 

255» 28 3- 

Feuz, E. (Swiss guide), 45. 

Field, Description, 144; * 47, 90, 96, 97, 
98, 154, 155, I57» l82 > l8 5> l86 > l8 9> 
200, 206, 213, 234, 240, 260, 266, 326, 

445- 
Field, Mt. (8854 ft.), Ascent of, 178; 

* 154, 176, 177, 193- 
Field, P. B., 160. 



458 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



Fires, Forest, 1461!., 370; * 51, 223, 
297. 

First Ascents, Ambition of climbers, 3; 
list of, 449. 

Fish, 13, 238, 277. 

Fish River Valley, 442. 

Flowers, Wealth of, 10, 50, 198, 296, 338, 
345, 359, 360, 413; in the Selkirks, 
442. 

Fool-hens, 12, 214. 

Forbes Creek, 305, 325, 336, 342. 

Forbes, Mt. (12,100 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 9, 15 ; name and history, 
335; description, 335, 339, 346 ff. ; 
first attempted, 336 ; reconnoitred, 
336,339 ff . ; First Ascent, (1902), 
345 ff . ; summit, 357; seen from dis- 
tant peaks, 212, 221, 315, 333, 369, 
373. 383. 3 8 9, 390; * 142, 201, 269, 
297. 3oi» 305. 3°8, 3 11 * 3 12 , 3 l8 » 3 2 5» 
342, 359, 361, 3 6 3> 366. 

Forbes Valley, 305, 339 ; luxuriance of 
vegetation, 345 ; First Explored to 
head, {1902), 359. 

Forests, Trees, 10; timber line, 10, 413 ; 
density, 241, 259, 299, 342, 346, 386; 
fallen trees, 52, 215, 297, 300; fires, 
51, 146 ff., 223, 297, 370. 

Forster, Mr. Pioneer climber, 22, 442. 

Fort Garry, 29. 

Fort William, 29. 

Fortress Lake, Discovered, (1896), 430; 

* 22, 328, 433. 
Forty-mile Creek, 36. 
Fossils, 161, 303. 

Fraser River, Discovered, (1809), 17. 
Fraser, Simon. Pioneer explorer, {1809), 

17- 

Freshfield Creek, 305, 315. 

Freshfield Flats, 315, 325. 

Freshfield Glacier, Description, 321 ; 

* 318, 323- 

Freshfield Group, 15, 201, 212, 305, 314, 

336, 342, 360, 363- 
Freshfield, Mt. (10,900 ft.), First Ascent, 

(1902), 321 ff.; first attempted, 322; 

* 269, 315, 318, 323, 333, 359, 400. 
Frissell, L. F. First Ascents, Mt. Aber- 
deen, 88; Mt. Temple, 143; accident, 
no; * 77, 109, 124. 

Fruit, Wild, Abundance of, 52, 127, 175, 
229. 



Gable Peak, 15, 367, 387. 

"Gamma," (Mt. Columbia), 381, 384. 

Gendarmes = rock pinnacles, 85, 87, 25 7. 

Geological features of Canadian Rockies,, 
Stratification, 7, 55, 107, 133, 301; 
disintegration, 55, 104, 159, 172 ff.,. 
281 ; fossils, 7, 161, 303 ; igneous 
rocks, 7, 238; minerals, q.v.; glaciers, 
q.v.; longitudinal valleys, 7, 271; 
watershed, q.v. 

Glacier Creek, 305, 308, 315. 

Glacier House, 9, 168, 441, 422, 445. 

Glacier Lake, 305, 308, 311, 315, 333, 357,, 

3 6 3> 3 6 6, 389. 

Glacier Table, 90. 

Glaciers, Number and extent, 6, 8; dan- 
gers of, 100 ff. ; bergschrunds, q.v.; 
crevasses, q.v.; dry glacier, 321; mo- 
raine, q.v.; neve, q.v.; seracs, 375,424; 
ice falls, q.v.; ice cascades, 229; ice 
caverns, 221, 232; glacier eggs, 227 ; 
glacier table, 90 ; red colour, 401 s 
accidents on, 101, 125, 445. 

Glissades, Danger of, 102, 176. 

Goat Mtn., 109, (or Fairview, q.v.). 

Goats, Rocky Mountain, 12, 80, 196, 332,. 
442 ; kid captured by guides, II ; 
herd seen in Yoho Valley, 209; in Ice 
River Valley, 256 ; over fifty above 
Forbes Valley, 339 ff. ; haunts of, 238,. 
286, 308. 

Gold Range, 8. 

" Golden Eagle " alp, 338 ff., 345. 

Goodsir Creek, 237. 

Goodsir, Mt. (11,671 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 14, 78, 268; description, 237; 
first attempted, 248 ff. ; again at- 
tempted, 266; First Ascent, (790J), 
267 ff. ; summit, 268 ; seen from dis- 
tant peaks, 66, 83, 93, 163, 244, 265, 
384; * 142, 238, 254, 256, 260. 

Gordon, Mt. (10,400 ft.), First Ascent, 
{1897), 282; accident on, 445 ff.; * 202, 
229, 230, 281, 283, 285, 

Gorges, Kicking Horse, 167; Yoho, 216; 
Twin Falls, 217; Bow, 291; West 
Branch, 387, 394. 

Green, Rev. W. S. Pioneer climber, 21, 
442 ; author, 21. 

Groups of Rocky Mountain chain, 13. 
to 16. 

Grouse, 12, 214. 



INDEX 



459 



Guides, First Swiss in Canada, 25 ; ascend 
the Mitre, 88; provided by C. P. R., 
108; E. Whymper's, 198, 214. 

Habel Glacier, 202, 203, 210, 217, 220, 
222, 282. 

Habel, Jean. Explorer, 25 ; Yoho Valley 
expedition, 189; expedition to sources 
of Athabaska River, 362, 384, 433; 
observations of " Gamma," 381 ; First 
Ascent, Mt. Chaba, 434; photograph 
by, 380. 

Habel, Mt. (10,600 ft.), First Ascent, 
(i<?oj), 210 ff. ; summit, 212; seen 
from distant peaks, 209, 224, 265, 285; 
* 107, 154, 202, 221, 223, 269, 281, 
282, 311, 326. 

Hansen, J., 219. 

Haskin Creek, 241. 

Hasler, Christian, (Swiss guide). First 
Ascents, Mt. Assiniboine,. 47 ff. ; 
Cathedral Spires, 168; Mt. Mollison, 
239; Mt. Vaux, 243; Mt. Chancellor, 
260; Mt. Goodsir, 267; second ascent, 
Mt. Assiniboine, 71 ; crosses Abbot 
Pass, 90 ; strength and skill, 95 ; in- 
genuity, 247 ; ascents, Mt. Stephen, 
161 ff.; on Emerald Group, 206; first 
attempts, Cathedral Spires, 167; Mt. 
Goodsir, 248; Mt. Chancellor, 256; 
Ottertail expedition, 240 ff . ; * 1 76, 
181, 197, 218. 

Healy Creek, 48, 50, 71, 77. 

Hector, Dr. (now Sir James). Noted ex- 
plorer, (1857 ff. ), 18 ; revisits Rockies, 
(1904), 26 ; accident, 152 ; discovers 
Ice River Valley, 239 ; explores sources 
. of Bow and North Saskatchewan 
Rivers, 276 ; names Mt. Murchison, 
295, 296 ; discovers Glacier Lake, 
308 ; explores Lyell Glacier, 3 1 1 ; ex- 
plores Freshfield Glacier, 321 ; names 
Mt. Forbes, 335 ; names Mt. Lyell, 
366. 

Hector Lake, 231, 233, 276, 277, 281, 283, 
290, 295. 

Hector, Mt. (11,205 ft.), First Ascent, 
(1895), 278 ff. ; * 83, 146, 212, 231, 
265, 276, 280, 281, 285. 

Hector Pass, (5296 ft.), Altitude and lo- 
cation, 14; discovered, (1838), 19; 
crossed by railroad, 149 ; * 144, 281. 



Hector Station, 96, 145, 150, 175, 185. 

Heejee, Mt., 132. 

Hemlocks, 10, 442. 

Henderson, Y., 77, 109 ff. 

Hermit Range, 442. 

Highest altitude reached in Canada, 382 
385. 

Hill, — , 156. 

Hooker, Dr. W. T., 431. 

Hooker, Mt. (c. 9000 ft.), discovered, 
{1827), 17; fabulous altitude, 17, 18, 
429 ; real altitude, 430 ; * 329, 374, 
431. 

Horse-shoe Glacier, 128. 

Hot Springs, Banff, 32. 

Howse Pass, (4800 ft.), Altitude and lo- 
cation, 14, 15; discovered, (/8j8), 
!9 ; * 305, 308, 323, 326, 360. 

Howse Peak, (10,800 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 14;. First Ascent, {igo2) y 
316 ; summit, 317 ; * 295, 323, 325. 

Huber, Emil. Pioneer climber, 21, 442; 
First Ascent, Mt. Sir Donald, 445. 

Huber, Mt. (11,100 ft.), 83. 

Hungabee, Mt. (11,305 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 14 ; First Ascent, (1903), 
138 ff.; seen from distant peaks, 67, 
212, 266, 384; * 127, 128, 132, 141. 

Hurd, Mt., 243. 

Hurd Pass, 243. 

Ice-axe, usefulness of, 104, 105. 

Ice cascades, 229. 

Ice falls, Balfour, 231, 232; Lyell, 312; 
Athabaska, 374; "Trident," 387, 388, 
396. 

Ice River, 238, 239, 251. 

Ice River Valley, Character, 7 ; descrip- 
tion, 238, 246 ; * 250, 256, 264, 267. 

Illecillewaet Glacier, 441, 442. 

Illecillewaet Valley, 442. 

Indians' trading ground, 16, 305. 

Iron cubes found, 395. 

Isolated col, (9000 ft.), 209; First 
Crossed, (igoi), 210. 

Isolated Peak, (9300 ft.), First Ascent, 
(190 1), 208 ; * 202, 203, 210. 

Kananaskis Pass, Discovered, 18. 
Kananaskis River, 8, 22. 
Kaufmann, Christian, (Swiss guide). 
First Ascents, The Mitre, 88 ; Mt. 



4 6o IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



Biddle, 96; Mt. Deltaform, 135 ; Mt. 
Hungabee, 138 ; Kiwetinok Peak, 201 ; 
The President Mtn., 204 ; The Vice- 
President, 207 ; Mt. Habel, 210 ; Mt. 
Collie, 221 ; Trolltinder, 227 ; Mt. 
Goodsir, 267; Mt. Kaufmann, 311 ; 
Mt. Freshfield, 321 ; Mt. Wilson, 
331 ; ^//. Forbes, 347; .#//. Columbia, 
376 ; ^//. Zy*//, 388 ; Consolation 
Peak, 397; Turret Peak, 399; J//. 
Alexandra, 400; J//. Bryce, 412; 
First Crossings, Kiwetinok Pass, 
200 ; Balfour Pass, 229; " Trident'" 
Pass, 401 ; ascent of Mt. Assiniboine, 
71 ; reconnaissances, Mt. Columbia, 
371 ; Mt. Bryce, 408 ; skill, 270, 350, 
377, 417; on expedition to North, 
271, 274; in camp, 275, 287; * 198, 
202, 228, 352, 364, 368, 387, 398, 399, 
422, 425. 

Kaufmann Glacier, 312. 

Kaufmann, Hans, (Swiss guide). First 
Ascents, Mt. Biddle, 96 ; Mt. Nep- 
tuak, 133; Mt. Deltaform, 135; Mt. 
Hungabee, 138 ; Mt. Murchison, 303 ; 
Howse Peak, 316 ; Mi. Freshfield, 
321; Mt. Forbes, 347; * 139, 316, 

35 2 - 
Kaufmann, Mt. (10,200 ft.), First As- 
cent, (1902), 311 ff . ; importance, 

3H; * 333,359- 
Kicking Horse Canyon, 150, 171 ; lower, 

_ 2 37- 

Kicking Horse Pass, 18, (or Hector Pass, 
q.v.). 

Kicking Horse River, (or Wapta), Dis- 
covered and named, (1858), 152, 153 ; 
difficulties in crossing, 261, 266; * 12, 
89, 144, 150, 154, 166, 169, 177, 178, 
189, 197, 213, 234, 237, 239, 244, 259, 
264, 283. 

Kiwetinok Lake, (c. 8000 ft.), 200. 

Kiwetinok Pass, (8200 ft.), 197; First 
Crossed, (igoi), 200. 

Kiwetinok Peak, (9600 ft.) , First Ascent, 
(iqoi), 201 ; named, 202. 

Kiwetinok River and Valley, 197, 200, 
201. 

Klucker, Christian, (Swiss guide). First 
Ascents, The Mitre, 88; Cathedral 
Mtn., 172; Mt. Habel, 210; Mt. Col- 
lie, 221 ; Trolltinder, 227 ; First 



Crossings, Kiwetinok Pass, 200 ; 

Emerald Pass, 204; skill, 226; * 197. 
Kootanie Plain, 16, 305. 
" Kootenay," (Pack-horse), 277. 
Kootenay Lake, 133, 441. 
Kootenay Pass, 18. 
Kootenay River, 19, 50, 133, 441, 

Laggan, Station for Lake Louise, 78 ; 

starting-point for the North, 271 ; 

* 77, 146, 206, 233, 274, 276, 280, 

286, 290, 333. 
Laggan (or Bow) Group, 14, 15, 171. 
Lakes in the Clouds, The, 78. 
Lakes, numerous, 66, 97, 175, 185, 295, 

33h 393- 
Lakes, Valley of, 331 ; Discovered, 

(IQ02), 393. 

Larch, Lyall's, 10. 

Laughing Fall, 217. 

Leanchoil, 153, 237, 255, 258, 259, 260, 
266, 267. 

Lefroy couloir, 109, in, 112; accident in, 
no. 

Lefroy, Mt. (11,290 ft.), Altitude and lo- 
cation, 14; first attempted, 109 ff.; 
again, H2ff.; fatal accident on, 118; 
First Ascent, (1897), 121 ff.; monu- 
ment to P. S. Abbot, 123 ; * 67, 75, 
78, 80, 81, 85, 88, 89, 90, 92, 93, 108, 
109, 122, 124, 146, 212, 266, 276. 

Lewis and Clark's expedition, (7803), 17. 

Licks, Salt, 308. 

Life, Scarcity of, noticeable, 10, 53, 299. 

Lindsay, D., 241, 260. 

Little, Rev. G., 115 ff. 

Lome, Marquess of, 77. 

"Lost Peak," (c. 11,000 ft), First As- 
cent, (1901), 62 ; * 65, 349. 

Louise, H.R.H. Princess, 77. 

Louise, Lake, Description, 72 ff.; name, 
77 ; * 14, 78, 81, 88, 89, 90, 109, 115, 
121, 127, 128, 131, 139, 145, 271, 275. 

Louise, Lake, Chalet, 78, 79, in, 233. 

Lyell Glacier, Visited by Dr. Hector, 
(1858), 311; * 366, 389, 393- 

Lyell Group, 15. 

Lyell, Mt. (11,950 ft.), Altitude and loca- 
tion, 15, 390; importance, 363, 366, 
390 ; reconnoitred, 368, 387 ; First 
Ascent, (1902), 388 ff.; summit, 390 
ff. ; seen from distant peaks, ^S3> 3^9* 



INDEX 



461 



373, 401 ; * 107, 142, 269, 311, 314, 
331. 332, 367, 387' 
Lyell Pass, (c. 11,500 ft.), First Ex- 
plored, (1902), 389. 

Macdonald, Sir John A., 19. 
Mackenzie, Alexander. Pioneer explorer, 

Mackenzie River, 6, 17. 

Manitoba, 29. 

Margaret Lake, 283. 

Marmots, 12, 80, 250, 413. 

Marten, 12, 313. 

Martin, Tom, (Packer), 197, 219. 

Massif = the entire block of a mountain, 

15- 

Massive, Mt., 31, 32, 48, 78. 
Matterhorn, The, 38, 335, 349. 
Matterhorn of North America, The, 13, 

37- 

McArthur, J. J. Surveyor and climber, 
20 ; First Ascent, Mt. Stephen, 157 ; 
second ascent, 159; quoted, 158, 159. 

McArthur Lake, 95, 97. 

McArthur Pass, 95. 

McMullen, Mt. (10,000 ft.), 200, 201, 
206. 

Michael, Prof. A. First Ascents, Mt. 
Victoria, 81 ; Mt. Lefroy, 121 ; Mt. 
Gordon, 282 ; * 167, 173, 206, 207. 

Michel, F. (Swiss guide), 45. 

Middle Fork of the North Saskatchewan, 
The, Source, 305 ; swim across, 307 ; 
characteristics, 308; * 297, 315, 316, 
323, 326, 333. 

Milton Viscount, 19. 

Minerals, 177, 238, 241, 250, 395, 441. 

Minnewanka, Lake, 32. 

Mirror Lake, 79. 

Mistaya River (or Bear Creek), the 
South Fork of the North Saskatchewan, 
Names, 295, 297 ; source, 295 ; char- 
acteristics, 294, 295 ; difficulty in 
crossing, 306 ; * 224, 276, 282, 286, 
288, 298, 301, 302, 303, 305, 307, 315, 

3i7> 333- 
Mitre Pass,(850oft.), 127; First Crossed, 

(1894), 125. 
Mitre, The, Location, 124 ; First Ascent, 

(790/), 88. 
Molar, Mt., 281. 
Mollison, Miss, 47, 144, 154, 190, 240. 



Mollison, Mt. (9350 ft.), First Ascent, 

(1900), 240. 
Montana, 4. 
Montreal, 27, 28. 
Moraine, 131, 221, 230, 435. 
Moraine Lake, Description, 131 ; * 134, 

l 35> l 39, 435- 
Moraine Lake Chalet, 127. 
Moulin, miniature, 227. 
Mountaineering, see Climbing. 
Mountaineering Visiting-card, (Union 

Jack), 397. 
Mountstephen, Lord, 445. 
Mt. Auburn, 120, 123. 
Mttller, Jacob, (Swiss guide), 239. 
Mummery, Mt., 201, 212, 324. 
Murchison, Mt. (11,300 ft.), Altitude 

and location, 295, 296 ; first attempted, 

{1898), 302 ; First Ascent, (1902), 

303 ff . ; fossils on, 303. 

Natural Bridge, 165. 

" Nellie," (Spaniel), Crosses Abbot Pass, 
90, 91. 

Neptuak, Mt. (10,500 ft.), First Ascent, 
(1902), 133; * 135, 137. 

Neve = upper portion of a glacier, 100, 
312, 371 to 377. 

Nichols, Rev. H. P., 224, 280, 295. 

"Nigger," (Horse), 286. 

Niles, Mt. (9510 ft.), 194, 284. 

North Fork Falls, 327. 

North Fork of the North Saskatchewan, 
The, Description, 326, 327, 329 ; desig- 
nation, 327; explored, 328; source, 
329 ; * 294, 297, 301, 305, 307, 331, 

333, 362, 367, 377> 390, 407, 429, 430. 

North Saskatchewan River, cf. Saskatche- 
wan River, North. 

North-West Territory, 29. 

Noyes, Rev. C. L. First Ascents, Mt. 
Lefroy, 121 ; Mt. Gordon, 282; Mt. 
Balfour, 283 ; First Explorations, 
Dolomite region, 280 ; Peyto Glacier, 
295 ; attempts Mt. Collie, 224 ; 
quoted, 224, 283. 

Odaray, Mt. (c. 10,000 ft.), 175, 185. 

Oesa, Lake, 89, 94. 

O'Hara Lake, Visited, 94; route from 

Field, 97, 98, 182, 184, 185; *89, 

90, 112, 150, 175, 260. 



462 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



Olive, Mt., 281. 

Opabin Pass, 139. 

Ottawa River, 28. 

Ottertail Bridge, 241. 

Ottertail Creek and Valley, 237, 244, 
268. 

Ottertail Group, Location, 14, 142 ; de- 
scription, 234 ff. ; seen from distant 
peaks, 66, 163, 171, 212. 

Outfit, Camping, 272 ff. 

Outfit, Personal, 448. 

Out ram, Rev. W. First Ascents, Mt. 
Victoria, Northern Peak, 85 ; 
Cathedral Spires, 168; "Parsons' 
Peak" 196 ; ascends Cascade Mtn., 
35 ; ascends Mt. Stephen, 161 ; visits 
Emerald Lake and Yoho Valley, 190. 

Pack-horses, cf. Cayuses. 
Painter's-brush, Abundance of, 198, 297, 

338, 360. 
Palliser, Capt. Expedition, (1837 ff.), i8„ 
Palliser Station, 240. 
Palmer, A., 220. 
Panoramas, In general, 382 ; interrupted 

by storms, 62, 163, 245; by fires, 223, 

228; from Mt. Assiniboine, 66; Mt. 

Habel, 212; Mt. Chancellor, 265; 

Mt. Freshfield, 323 ; Mt. Wilson, 333 ; 

Mt. Forbes, 357 ; Mt. Athabaska, 373; 

Mt. Columbia, 383 ; Mt. Lyell, 390 ; 

Diadem Peak, 436. 
Paradise Valley, Discovered and named, 

126; *8o, 127, 128, 138, 140, 141, 

143. 

Parker, Prof. H. C. First Ascents, Mt. 
Piddle, 96 ; Mt. Lefroy, 1 21 ; Mt. 
Deltaform, 135 ; Mt. Hungabee, 138; 
Mt. Goodsir, 267 ; Mt. Gordon, 1Z2. ; 
attempts Mt. Goodsir, 266 ; photo- 
graph by, 134 ; quoted, 96, 135, 139. 

Parks, National Mountain, Rocky Moun- 
tain, 31 ; Selkirk, 31 ; Yoho, 31. 

"Parsons' Peak," (c. 8500 ft.), First 
Ascent, (iqoo), 196 ; * 193, 207. 

Peace River, 17. 

Peecock, Ross, (Packer), 246, 247, 248, 
259. 

Peyto, Bill. Outfitter, 46, 316 ; makes 
circuit of Mt. Assiniboine, 42 ; rec- 
ord trip to Mt. Assiniboine, 47 ff.; 
E. Whymper's outfitter, 198 ; author's 



' outfitter, 271, 272 ; first crosses 
Baker Pass, 213, 326 ; W. D. Wilcox's 
outfitter to Fortress Lake, 328; * 199, 
214, 275, 291, 307. 

Peyto Glacier, 281, 295, 297. 

Peyto Lake, 224, 295, 297. 

Pigeon Mtn., 31. 

Pilkington, Mt., 322, 323, 324. 

Pinnacle Mtn., 132, 143. 

Pinto Pass, 331, 362. 

Pipestone Pass, 280. 

Pipestone River, 280. 

" Playground of Europe, The," Quoted, 

437- 
Playgrounds, The Prince of, 3. 
Pollinger, Joseph, (Swiss guide). First 

Ascents, The Mitre, 88; Kiwetinok 

Peak, 201; The President, 204; The 

Vice-President, 207; Mt. Habel, 210; 

Mt. Collie, 221; Trolltitider, 227; 

First Crossings, Kiwetinok Pass r 

200; Balfour Pass, 229; skill, 231; 

* 198, 199, 202. 
Pope's Peak, 86. 

Porcupines, 12, 198; tragedy, 203. 
Porter, J. F., 42. 
Prairies, 29, 30. 
President Group, (formerly Emerald), 

Description, 204; * 180, 192, 193, 

196, 198, 200, 201, 206. 
President Mtn. (10,200 ft.), (formerly 

Emerald Mtn.), 192; First Ascent, 

(790/), 204; summit, 206. 
President Pass, (9700 ft.), First Crossed, 

(iqoi), 207, 208. 
Presidential Range, 286. 
Prince and Princess of Wales, T.R.FL 

The, Visit of, (igoi), 165, 186. 
Prospector's Valley, 96, 132, 135, 139. 
Ptarmigan, 12, 331; easily approached, 

214, 329. 
Punch-bowl, The Committee's, 17,430. 
Purcell Range, 8, 441. 
Pyramid Peak, (10,700 ft.), 295, 299, 325. 

Quesnel, Jules. Pioneer explorer, 
(1809), 17. 

Rainfall, Forbes region, 342; Selkirks, 

442. 
Reversed cornices, 252, 253, 421. 
Ringuet, F. LePrince, 445. 



INDEX 



463 



Robson, Jack, (Packer), 321, 322, 345. 
Robson, Mt. (13,500 ft.), Altitude and 

location, 9, 390; * 13, 335, 383. 
" Rockies of Canada, The," viii, 22, 42, 77, 

449; Quoted, 43, 44, no, 125, 131, 

143- 

Rocky Mountain Chain, The, 4, 6. 

Rocky Mountain Goats, cf. Goats. 

Rocky Mountain Park, 31. 

Rocky Mountain Sheep, cf. Bighorn 
Sheep. 

Rocky Mountains, The Canadian, cf. 
Canadian Rocky Mountains. 

Rogers Pass, 441. 

Rope, Used in climbing, importance of, 
86, 106 ff., no, 125, 445; limitations 
of > I33» 35°> 35 2 > 4i8; dangers from, 
107, 117; two on a rope, 270, 312, 

423. 
Ross, — , 156. 
Rundle, Mt., 32. 

Saddleback, 128. 

Saddle Peak, 128. 

Saknovva, Mt., 134, (or Mt. Deltaform, 
q.v.). 

Salt licks, 308. 

Sarbach, Mt. (10,700 ft.), First Ascent, 
(1SQ7), 302; * 301, 305, 308. 

Sarbach, Peter, (Swiss guide). First Swiss 
guide in Canada, (/Scjy), 25; First 
Ascents, Mt. Victoria, 81; Mt. Le- 
froy, 121; Mt. Gordon, 282; Mt. Sar- 
bach, 302; on Mt. Freshfield, 322; on 
Mt. Forbes, 336; * 446. 

Saskatchewan Glacier, 329, 373, 384. 

Saskatchewan, Mt. (11,000 ft.), Altitude 
and location, 15; named, 373; spur 
ascended, 362, 364; * 365, 366, 377. 

Saskatchewan River, North, Head-waters, 
292, 305; swim across, 307, 334; * 6, 
8, 16, 213, 271, 272, 280, 301, 318, 
326, 334, 339, 363, 372, 376, 390, 434; 
cf. also Middle Fork, Mistaya River, 
North Fork, West Branch of North 
Fork. 

Saskatchewan River, South, 292. 

Sawback Range, 32, 77. 

Scarcity of life in the Canadian Rockies, 
10, 53, 299. 

Scattergood, J. H. First Ascents, Mt. 
Victoria, Northern Peak, 85; Mt. 



Wapta, 177; Mt. Mo llison, 239; Mt. 
Vaux, 243; ML Chancellor, 260; 
crosses Abbot Pass, 90; First at- 
tempts, Cathedral Spires, 167; Mt. 
Goodsir, 248; Mt. Chancellor, 256; 
Ottertail expedition, 239; * 95, 247, 
252, 254. 

Schaeffer, Mt., 95. 

Scientific work, Difficulties of, 245, 388, 
393- 

" Selkirk Glaciers, Among the," 21. 

Selkirk Range, Location and characteris- 
tics, 8, 441 ; earliest mountaineering 
in, 21, 442 ; books on, 21, 441 ; seen 
from Rocky Mountain Peaks, 201, 212, 
243, 251, 262, 265, 314, 390, 402, 442; 

* 3h I55> 237, 382, 401. 

Selwyn, Mt. (11,038 ft.), Highest peak of 

Selkirks, 9, 442. 
Seracs = pinnacles of ice, 375, 424. 
Shasta, Mt., 3. 
Sheep, cf. Bighorn. 
Sheol, Mt., 80, 128; name, 127. 
Sherbrook Valley, 283. 
Sierras, 3. 
Siffieur River, 280. 

Signal 18, (10,000 ft.), 200, 202, 209, 282. 
Silver City, 177. 
Simpson, Jim. Packer on trip North, 271; 

* 275, 287, 307, 327, 371. 

Simpson Pass, (6884 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 14; discovered, (1841), 18; 

* 32, 4i, 49, 5°- 

Simpson River, Source of, 51, 52, 54; 

* 41, 50, 66, 70, 133. 

Simpson, Sir George. Pioneer explorer, 

(1841), 18. 
Sinclair, Jack. Packer, Yoho Valley, 199, 

214 ; Assiniboine expedition, 47 ff. 
Sir Donald, Mt. (10,806 ft.), Most climbed 

mountain in Selkirks, 155, 445 ; First 

Ascent, (i8go), 445 ; * 21, 243, 384, 

442. 
Sisters, The Three, (Mtn.), 31. 
Slate Range, 152, 281. 
Smith, Mr., 43. 
Sodalite, 250. 
South Fork of the North Saskatchewan, 

The, (or Mistaya River, q. v.). 
Southesk, Lord, 19. 
Spencer, S., 407. 
Spray River and Valley, 32, 45, 53, 66. 



464 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



St. Piran, Mt., 80. 

Steele, L. J. Accident, 43. 

Stephen, Leslie. Quoted, 437. 

Stephen, Mt. (10,523 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 14 ; most climbed peak in 
Canada, 155, 445 ; description, 155 ff., 
162 ff. ; first attempted, {1886), 156 ; 
First Ascent, (1887), 157 ff. ; subse- 
quent ascents, 159, 160, 161 ff. ; fossils 
on, 161 ; crystals on, 164 ; silver mine 
on, 154, 177 ; seen from distant peaks, 
66, 171, 178, 212, 265 ; * 20, 144, 148, 
154, 166, 168, 177, 182, 184, 193, 269, 
299. 

Stephens, Fred. Outfitter, 276, 316; 
First Ascent, Mt. Edith, 35 ; * 342, 

345- 
Stony Squaw Mtn., 37. 
Storm Mtn. (10,330 ft.), 14, 78. 
Storms, 54, 245, 254, 255, 437. 
Strathcona, Lord, 445. 
Stuart, John. Pioneer explorer, (1809), 

17. 

Stuart, Mr., 429. 

Stuttield, H. E. M. First Ascents, Mt. 
Neptuak, 133; Mt. Thompson, 282; 
Mt. Murchison, 303 ; Howse Peak, 
316 ; Mt. Freshfield, 321 ; Mt. Forbes, 
347 ; The Dome, 375 ; Diadem Peak, 
434 ; First Exploration, Columbia 
ice-field, 374 ; expedition to Bush 
Valley, 407 ; expedition to Athabaska 
head-waters, 431 ; Bighorn hunt, 329, 
331 ; author, viii, 449 ; book quoted, 
35, 133, 302, 303, 316, 329, 373, 374, 

435> 445- 
Stutfield, Peak, (11,400 ft.), 16, 434, 435. 
Subterranean streams, 54, 94, 131, 370. 
Sulzer, C. Pioneer climber, 21, 442 ; 

First Ascent, Mt. Sir Donald, 445. 
Sun Wapta River (or Whirlpool), the East 

Fork of the Athabaska River, 433, 

434- 
Sundance Canyon, 32. 
Superior, Lake, 28. 
Swanzy, Rev. H. Pioneer climber, 21, 

442. 
Swimming across rivers, 307, 334. 
Swiss Peaks, 442. 
Switzerland, 2, 4, 375, 437. 
" Switzerland of America, The," 4, 20, 

108, 155. 



Table, Glacier, 90. 

Takakkaw Fall, Name, 194 ; description, 
194, 198 ; * 154, 190, 215, 217, 282. 

Temperature at camps, 288, 345, 359. 

Temple, Mt. (11,637 ft -)> Altitude and 
location, 14, 142 ; first attempted, 
143 ; First Ascent, (1894), 143 ; 
seen from distant peaks, 66, 212, 266, 
333, 384 ; * 77> 7 8 > 80, 127, 128, 132, 
146, 276. 

Ten Peaks, Valley of (or Desolation Val- 
ley), First seen, 127; route to, 127 ff.; 
description, 131 ff.; * 14, 78, 132, 133, 

435- 

" dd\aa<ra, 6d\a<r<ra ! " 260. 

Thompson, C. S. Pioneer climber, 22; 
First Ascents, Mt. Lefroy, 121 ; Mt. 
Hector, 278; Mt. Gordon, 282; Mt. 
Balfour, 283 ; First Explorations, 
Dolomite region, 280; Peyto Glacier, 
295 ; West Branch Valley, 362 ; at- 
tempts on, Mt. Lefroy, in, 115; Mt. 
Hungabee, 138; Mt. Collie, 224; Mt. 
Chancellor, 261 ; ascends Mt. Stephen, 
160; Mt. Lyell problem, 366, 367; 
accident, 445 ff. 

Thompson Pass, (6800 ft.), First Ex- 
plored, (/900), 362; description, 408; 

* I5> 36o, 386, 395, 396, 398, 399, 401, 
407, 412. 

Thompson Peak, (10,500 ft.), First As- 
cent, (1898), 282. 

Three Sisters Mtn., 31. 

Tilley, First View of Rockies from, 30. 

Timber, cf. Forests. 

Topham, H. Pioneer climber, 22, 442. 

Tower of Babel, 131, 132. 

Trails, Difficulties of, 50 ff., 241, 259, 277, 
300, 318, 332, 342, 364, 368. 

Trappers, 12; winter huts, 288, 307. 

Trident (?) Glacier, Name, 387; descrip- 
tion, 387; ice-falls, 388, 396, 402; 

* 366, 367. 395- 

Trident (?) Pass, (c. 10,000 ft.), First 
explored, 396; First Crossed, {1Q02), 
400, 401. 

Troll tinder, (9600 ft.), Name, 226; First 
Ascent, (igo/), 226 ff. 

Tunnel Mtn., 31; view from, 32. 

Turquoise Lake, 283. 

Turret Peak, (10,200 ft.), 333; First As- 
cent, (1902), 399. 



INDEX 



465 



Twin Falls, Description, 218; * 154, 217, 

219. 
Twin Falls Lake, 219. 
Twin Falls Valley, 209, 228. 
Twins, The, (c. 12,000 ft.), Altitude and 

location, 16, 377, 382, 390. 

Union Jack, 358; Highest point reached 
in Canada, 385; mountaineering visit- 
ing card, 397. 

Upper Valley of the Bow River, cf. Bow 
Valley (Upper). 

Upper Yoho River, 217. 

Upper Yoho Valley, 46, 197, 198, 202, 204, 
208, 209, 228. 

Van Horne Range, 144, 154, 201. 

Vancouver, 27. 

Vanderlip, J. R. First Ascent, Mt. Le- 
froy, 121. 

Vaux, G., 218. 

Vaux, Miss, 160, 218. 

Vaux, Mt. (10,741 ft.), Altitude and loca- 
tion, 14; description, 234, 244; First 
Ascent, (igoi), 243 ff.; summit, 245; 
* 107, 192, 193, 239, 240, 251, 265. 

Verglas = thin coating of ice on rocks, 
64, 112, 250,397. 

Vermilion Lakes, 32. 

Vermilion Pass, (5265 ft.), 14, 18, 78. 

Vermilion Range, 66, 251. 

Vermilion River, 132, 251. 

Vice-President Mtn., The, (10,000 ft.), 
206; First Ascent, {1901), 207. 

Victoria Glacier, 90, 124. 

Victoria, Mt. (11,400 ft.), Altitude and 
location, 14; description, 81; First 
Ascent, {i8gy), 81 ff.; summit, 85; 
seen from distant peaks, 67, 87, 212, 
266; * 75, 78, 79, 80, 86, 89, 92, 93, 
107, 115, 122, 146, 276. 

Victoria North Peak, (11,150 ft.), First 
Ascent. (7900), 85 ff.; accident on, 
86; * 150, 161. 

Victoria, Queen, Diamond Jubilee of, 81. 

Vulture Col, 284, 295. 

Wales, T. R. H. The Prince and Princess 
of, Visit to the Rockies, (790/), 165, 
186. 

Walker, Mt, 323. 

Walling Brothers. Attempt on Mt. As- 
siniboine, 44, 70. 



Wapta Ice-field, Extent, 202, 281; * 154, 
189, 220, 222, 223, 224, 226, 291, 

295- 
Wapta Lake, 150, 152. 
Wapta, Mt. (c. 9000 ft.), First Ascent, 

(7907), 177 ff.; as a view-point, 179; 

* 154, 176, 181, 192, 193, 206. 
Wapta River, 89, (or Kicking Horse, q.v.). 
Waputik Ice-field, Extent, 8, 202; * 146, 

230, 276, 278, 281, 290. 

Waputik Range, Location, 14; character- 
istics, 14, 281 ff.; * 15, 146, 212, 295, 
305, 316, 323. 

Wastach Pass, 127, 132. 

Wastach River, 128. 

Watchman Peak, (c. 10,000 ft.), 362, 408. 

Waterfalls, Bow, 32; Takakkaw, 194; 
Laughing, 217; Twin, 218; North 
Fork, 327 ; unnamed, 299, 332. 

Waterfowl Lakes, 298, 317. 

Watershed, Continental, Its line, 7, 8, 9, 
14, 269, 314, 323, 357, 359, 402, 429. 

Weed, G. M. Pioneer climber, 22 ; First 
Ascents, Mt. Neptuak, 133; Mt. Chan- 
cellor, 260 ; Mt. Balfour, 283 ; Mt. 
Murchison, 303; Howse Peak, 316; 
Mt. Freshfield, 321 ; Mt. Forbes, 347; 
First Explorations, Dolomite region, 
280 ; Bush Pass, 359 ; First attempts, 
Mt. Hungabee, 139; Mt. Collie, 224; 

* 261, 324, 325, 356. 
Wenkchemna, Mt., 132. 
Wenkchemna Pass, (c. 8500 ft.), 132, 135; 

First Crossed, (1894), 139. 
West Branch of the North Fork of the 
North Saskatchewan, The, Name, 328; 
location, 15, 363 ; First Explored, 
(7900), 362; geographical importance, 
363, 407; characteristics, 327, 367 ff.; 
fire in, 370; source, 371; Ascents 
made from; Ml. Columbia, 376 ff.; Mt. 
Lyell, 388 ff.; Consolation Peak, 397; 
Turret Peak, 399 ; Mt. Alexandra, 
400 ff.; Mt. Bryce, 412 ff.; Passes ex- 
plored from; Columbia, 371; Lyell, 
389; Thompson, 386, 408; Trident, 
396, 401 ; Glaciers explored from ; 
Columbia, 371, 376; Trident, 387, 395 ; 
gorge in, 387, 394 ; camps in, Colum- 
bia, 288, 370, 395, 400, 412, 428; Con- 
tent, 387, 394, 400 ; long expeditions 
from, 386, 400, 428; reconnaissances 



466 IN THE HEART OF THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



of, 364, 368; *3i6, 331, 333, 373, 
377> 387» 388, 393> 403, 412. 

Whaleback, The, 209, 214, 219. 

Whatman, — , 156. 

Wheeler, A. 0. Surveyor and moun- 
taineer, 441, 442; estimate of altitude 
of Mt. Columbia, 382. 

Wheeler, Mt. (11,023 ft.), 442. 

Whirlpool River, 433, (or Sun Wapta, 
q.v.). 

Whisky-jack, 12. 

White Man Pass, (6807 ft.), 13, 45. 

Whymper, E. Exploration work, 26; at 
Lake Louise, 88; in Yoho Valley, 197; 
First Ascents, Mt. Habel, 210; Mt. 
Collie, 221 ; Trolltinder, 227 ; First 
Crossings, Kiwetinok Pass, 200 ; 
Emerald Pass, 204; * 46, 48, 172, 1 8 1, 
197, 199, 202, 208, 211, 282. 

Whymper's Guides, E., 198, 208, 214; 
First Ascent, The Mitre, 88. 

Whyte, Mt., 86. 

Wilcox Pass, (c. 8000 ft.), 286, 290, 294, 
328, 329, 433 ; First Crossed, 
(/8q6), 430. 

Wilcox, W. D. Explorer, 22, 38, 433 ; 
author, viii, 22, 38, 42, 77, 449 ; visits 
Mt. Assiniboine and makes circuit, 42; 
second visit, 43 ; third visit and 
attempt to climb, 45 ; routes taken, 
50, 55 ; at Lake Louise, 77 ; First 
Ascents, Mt. Aberdeen, 88 ; Mt. 
Temple, 143 ; First Crossings, Mitre 
Pass, 125 ; Wilcox Pass, 430 ; in 
Lefroy couloir, 109 ; Discovers Valley 
of the Ten Peaks, 127 ; names Mt. 
Deltaform, 134 ; expedition to sources 
of Saskatchewan and Athabaska 
Rivers, 328, 362, 384, 430 ; climbs 
spur of Mt. Saskatchewan, 364 ; at 
Fortress Lake, 430 ; photograph by, 
58; quoted, 42, 44, no, 125, 131, 
143; * 46 ? 59» 213, 219,433. 



Wilson, Mt. (11,000 ft.), First Ascent, 
(jgo2), 331 ff. ; summit, 333; * 298, 
307, 326, 362, 403. 

Wilson, T. E. Pioneer and outfitter, 41 ; 
* 119, 197, 200. 

Wind Mtn., 31. 

Winnipeg, 29. 

Witches' Peaks (or Trolltinder, q.v.). 

Woolley, H. First Ascents, Mt. Nep- 
tuak, 133 ; Mt. Thompson, 282 ; 
Howse Peak, 316 ; Mt. Freshfield, 321; 
Mt. Athabaska, 329 ; Mt. Forbes, 347; 
The Dome, 375 ; Diadem Peak, 434 ; 
First Exploration, Columbia ice-field 
374 ; expedition to Athabaska head- 
waters, 431 ; *373, 407. 

Woolley, Peak, (11,700 ft.), 16, 434, 

435- 
Wren, Golden-crested, 12. 



Yellowhead Pass, (3500 ft.), 9. 

Yoho Glacier, 202, 215, 220, 221, 227, 

282. 
Yoho Lake, 193, 197, 215. 
Yoho Park Reserve, 31. 
Yoho Pass, (6000 ft.), 189, 192, 193, 196, 

197. 
Yoho Peak, (9200 ft.), 216, 219, 222 ; 

First Ascent, (/go/), 220. 
Yoho River, 177, 195, 209, 215; source, 

221. 
Yoho Valley, First visited, (/8<pf), 25, 

189; best views of, 171, 179, 208; 

opened up by C P. R. Co., 190 ; routes 

to, 190 ff. ; description, 194 ff., 215 ff. ; 

♦148, 154, 165, 172, 176, 180,204, 

208, 209, 210, 214, 220, 224, 229, 281, 

282. 
Yukness, Mt., S^. 

Zinc Gulch, 267. 

Zurfluh, A. (Swiss guide), 86. 



A Pleasure=book of Grindelwald 



By DANIEL P. RHODES 

With Many Illustrations from Photographs of Grin- 
delwald and the Oberland. A practical record, of 
interest to all holiday travellers in the Alps* To 
those debarred from such travel, it reproduces the 
Tiountain life both vividly and entertainingly. 



n 



Cloth 



Crown 8vo 



$1.50 net 



*st but charming little volume by Daniel P. Rhodes, 

mous historian James Ford Rhodes, is a vivacious ac- 

ife of the Oberlander and of his great stay the foreign 

lerely during the mountain-climbing season, but in 

*e restless but less energetic holiday-makers overrun 

gay parties. Its cold, bracing air and sense of 

from the world of work and responsibility are 

e life of even staid Londoners a-steaming under 

id the adequate safety valve is hard physical exer- 

to dusk. Grindelwald is the tourist centre of the 

j of three or four places where " everybody " goes 

and in London any overheard scrap of allusion to 

safely be taken as referring neither to things astro- 

ian, but simply to the great red brick hostelry of 

h focusses the holiday life of the Oberwald. Many 

side of existence in these mountains ; few know the 

_nder or could picture his conditions as understand- 

rtainingly as does Mr. Rhodes. The book is freely 

will be to many a most charming souvenir of European 

:entive to it. 



,-iE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 



The American Sportsman's Library 

Under the general editorship of Caspar Whitney, editor of Outing 
Cloth Crown 8vo $2.00 net each 

EACH VOLUME PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED 

THE DEER FAMILY 

By Theodore Roosevelt, T. S. Van Dyke, D. G. Elliott, and 
A. J. Stone 
SALMON AND TROUT 

By Dean Sage, W. C. Harris, H. M. Smith, and C. H. Townsend 
UPLAND GAME BIRDS 

Bv Edwyn Sandys and T. S. Van Dyke 
THE WATER-FOWL FAMILY 

By L. C. Sanford, L. B. Bishop, and T. S. Van Dyke 
BASS, PIKE, PERCH, AND OTHERS 

By }. A. Henshall 
THE BIG GAME FISHES OF THE UNITED STATES 

By Charles F. Holder 
MUSK-OX, BISON, SHEEP, AND GOAT 

By Caspar Whitney, George B. Grinnell, and Owen Wister 
GUNS, AMMUNITION, AND TACKLE 

By Capt. A. W. Money, Horace Kephart, W. E. Carlin, A. L. A. Him- 
melwright, and J. Harrington Keene 
THE SPORTING DOG 

By Joseph A. Graham 
AMERICAN YACHTING 

By W. B. Stephens 
LAWN TENNIS AND LACROSSE 

By J. Parmly Paret and Dr. W. H. Maddren 
THE TROTTING AND THE PACING HORSE 

By Hamilton Busbey 
THE AMERICAN THOROUGHBRED 

By Charles- E. Trevathan 
RIDING AND DRIVING 

By Edward L. Anderson and Price Collier 
PHOTOGRAPHY FOR THE SPORTSMAN NATURALIST 

By L. W. Brownell 



In Preparation for Early Issue: 
THE BEAR FAMILY 

COUGAR, WILD-CAT, WOLF, AND FOX 
ROWING AND TRACK ATHLETICS 
BASEBALL AND FOOTBALL 

SKATING, HOCKEY, AND SKATE SAILING 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

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